


An Honorable Burglar

by Larrkin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Discipline, Dubious Consent, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Spanking, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrkin/pseuds/Larrkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin "discusses" the troll mishap with Fili and Kili. And then, it's Master Baggins' turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
I strolled back and forth in front of the bench. This private garden Lindir led me to was close to where the Company was quartered, but not too close, so my nephews could feel free to cry out without being overheard.  
  
I would have handled the matter sooner, but there had been no time and no opportunity to deal with the guilty parties until now. So I was eager to get on with this. Waiting was hard on the lads, and it was hard on me as well.  
  
So, when the conference with Elrond ended, I asked him if there was some place where I could have total privacy for a few meetings. Gandalf had a knowing look in his eye and he and Elrond exchanged a glance; then Elrond murmured instructions to Lindir and on our way back Lindir veered off the path and brought me here. Balin strolled ahead, leading the all-too-curious halfling on.  
  
"Bring them now," I had murmured to Balin before turning to follow the elf down the pathway through some high shrubbery to this circular garden. Several benches, low to the ground, surrounded a small fountain, several more faced it. The place had an overgrown look to it I liked. Perfect.  
  
"My Lord Elrond said you requested privacy," Lindir said, lighting a few torches. "This garden is rarely used. None shall disturb you here. I apologize for its --" He paused and sadly looked around as if words failed him.  
  
"Don't apologize," I said. "This will do. Thank him for me." I gave him a nod, and the elf turned and glided back down the path. Elves. I find them . . . unnatural. I have yet to see one with a decent beard, or even the start of one like Kili's. Their chins are as smooth as a halfling's. Master Baggins seems childlike enough to get away with a bare face, but I should think a fully grown adult elf would be ashamed to walk around looking like that. Elves.  
  
I sat on one of the benches and readied myself, thinking back on what had happened last night. Had it been just last night? Aye, this morning's rays had turned the trolls to stone. And I knew at once who had been responsible for our near-tragic encounter with those creatures.  
  
So whilst the others were busy being cut free from the spit and getting dressed I'd taken my nephews away to find out exactly what had happened. I wish I could say I was surprised to find out that Fili and Kili had disobeyed my orders. But it was unlikely a troll would have gone unnoticed when lifting a few ponies had my nephews been at their post, doing what I had ordered them to do.  
  
"The ponies seemed fine, so we went to scout out the area a little," Kili had softly said this morning, he and Fili studying the ground.  
  
"Did you not notice the trolls during this scouting expedition?" I asked.  
  
Glancing up at me, Fili said in his hushed tone, "We went in the opposite direction of their camp, so we didn't know they were there. When we came back through to go the other way, well . . .."  
  
"You noticed that several ponies were missing."  
  
Fili nodded. "Two, at that point."  
  
I paused, then said, "Did I tell you to scout around?"  
  
"You usually do," Kili piped up looking at me with bright eyes. His older brother winced.  
  
I frowned at them for a long moment. "Did I tell you to scout around?"  
  
Again they lowered their gazes.  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Kili, what did I tell both of you to do?" I demanded. "And look at me when I'm talking to you!"  
  
They both quickly obeyed. "You told us to look after the ponies," Kili said.  
  
I waited. "And?"  
  
"And to stay with them," Fili jumped in, coming to his little brother's aid as usual.  
  
I ignored him. "Kili. What were my last words to you?"  
  
"You said, _'Make sure you stay with them.'_ "  
  
"That's what I thought I said," I muttered. "And did you stay with them?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Mmmm." I turned to my older nephew. "Go on, Fili. What happened next?"  
  
"We'd just noticed the missing ponies when Bilbo came, and we saw the troll's campfire light, so we ran closer to have a look and then a troll came by with Myrtle and Minty. Bilbo was afraid the trolls were going to eat them, and since it looked that way to us, too, we decided to let him try to, uhhhh, rescue the ponies."  
  
"'Let' him try? You mean he volunteered?"  
  
They exchanged anxious glances.  
  
"WELL?"  
  
"Not exactly," Kili said. "No."  
  
I stared at them. "You pushed him into it."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Alone," I said.  
  
They nodded again.  
  
"Someone answer me!"  
  
"Yes, sir," Fili quickly said. "We thought, well, because he's our official burglar --"  
  
"-- and because he's so small," Kili added.  
  
"-- and because Gandalf said hobbits can move unseen by most --"  
  
"-- that the trolls wouldn't even see him."  
  
"'Wouldn't even see him,'" I growled.  
  
They squirmed without moving a muscle. I did not care to hear more, but I had to learn all of it. "To my knowledge, our burglar owns no weapon. Did you lend him one of your knives, Fili?"  
  
"Uhhh . . . nooo. I didn't think to."  
  
In danger now of fully losing my temper, I folded my arms over my chest and studied the sky, picturing this scene all too clearly. "So," I said, turning back to them, "if I understand this correctly, my two fully armed, warrior nephews sent a green, unarmed and unwilling halfling to thieve four captured ponies from under the eyes of an unknown number of mountain trolls. Does that sum things up?"  
  
My red-faced lads looked as though they wished the trolls had swallowed them whole, parasites and all.  
  
"Answer me!" I thundered.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
I heaved a sigh of frustration, glowered at them, and said, "What happened next?" They remained silent. I quickly lowered my arms and barked, "Either of you!" The lads flinched, then started answering, again in their interrupting manner:  
  
"I told Bilbo we'd be right behind him --"  
  
"-- so, after we sent him off --"  
  
"-- we ran into the woods --"  
  
"-- to find a good vantage point --"  
  
"-- and when we saw the troll nab him --"  
  
"-- I ran back to camp to give the alarm --"  
  
"-- and I went to help Bilbo and hold off the trolls 'till you got there."  
  
They were obviously upset with themselves, and they should be. I began to ask the answer-less questions.  
  
"Did you truly expect an unarmed halfling grocer to single-handedly rescue four ponies from some mountain trolls?"  
  
No reply of course. They were back to studying the ground, careful to keep from meeting my eyes.  
  
"Did it not occur to you that he might get caught?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"What did you think was going to happen?"  
  
And that, of course, was the problem. They had not thought it out fully, and when my nephews stopped thinking disasters occurred.  
  
I made a strangling sound deep in my throat, turned, and wandered off, seeking to settle the roar within me; then I suddenly halted and looked back and I saw my nephews, quiet and sad, watching me now, too respectful of my wrath to look away although it clearly hurt them to see it. They looked very young and full of remorse, and despite the horror of what had nearly happened, I lost the edge of that wrath.  
  
Heaving another deep sigh, I strolled back and stood before them. "Lads," I said in a low voice. "I am quite sorely displeased."  
  
They paled and stared bravely back at me, clearly dreading those words, though they had heard them often enough. Kili's eyes grew wide and Fili pressed his lips together tightly. They understood what I meant. My astute nephews had known that this was going to end but one way.  
  
But, I had to leave it there, for it sounded as though my previously spitted dwarves, laughing and full of high spirits, were nearly dressed again. There was no time to discipline two deserving lads. So I sent them off with assurances that this was by no means finished, then I stood alone for a moment soothing myself by muttering some foul language before heading back through the bushes to the clearing where I found Gandalf snarling at a stone troll and giving it a whack with his staff.  
  
Now, finally, I could deal with my nephews in full. There was still much to go over here. I'd learned but the basic facts of the matter earlier. Now I intended to hear the rest, the harder facts, the ones my lads would find difficult to admit to. But they would, eventually, cooperate. Spank a youngling long enough and he became more than eager to babble, especially Kili, who, despite his raw courage, crumbled rather quickly when over my knee.  
  
Hearing the approach of some heavy, booted footsteps, I stood and watched my nephews enter the garden. They paused and glanced around, then their wary gazes shot straight to me. My compassionate mood had long since flown. I was once again quite sorely displeased.  
  
I rarely waste time on preliminary chatter. These two knew why they were there and what I intended to do. So there was nothing to discuss - yet. For now I simply frowned and studied them, making them stand and quietly await my orders. They held still, alert and attentive. Such obedient lads.  
  
I crooked a finger their way. "Come," I growled.  
  
They moved towards me, a bit too slowly for my mood, so when they drew within my reach I nodded Fili towards the seat opposite my own, rumbling, "There," then I grabbed Kili, hauled him back to the bench, sat and swiftly yanked the lad across my lap. He fell with a soft explosion of breath and lay still.  
  
They never dare struggle, at least not at first. So when I am truly smoldering I move with slow, deliberate precision, making them feel where they are and think about what is about to befall them. I pushed up Kili's long undershirt then worked his breeches over his backside and down his legs inch by unhurried inch, stopping just above his knees. Though but a few minutes had passed Kili was now quivering, his upper body stretched out on the bench beside me, his face buried in his palms and hidden beneath the veil of his dark hair.  
  
I looked down at my nephew and drew a deep, satisfied breath. He was here, stretched out over my knee, safe. He was not eaten by trolls. And recalling how close we had all come to that fate, I tucked Kili tightly against my body, raised my hand and brought it down upon his backside with a resounding CRACK! They both jumped. I took a moment to relish that, then I began spanking Kili.  
  
It had troubled me when I had first taken on the duty of disciplining my nephews. They were proud young warriors who would sooner battle an army of orcs than take a spanking. I felt their humiliation too strongly and I fought putting them through it. Then came a time when Fili and Kili did something so disobedient and dangerous they had near died along with several of their friends. My lads, the leaders of this reckless group, became drenched in self-reproach.  
  
My hesitation fled, never to return. Leaving them alone to live with their guilt was making them suffer too greatly. I could not abide that. And after my fright and the anger that had followed I discovered that I needed this as much as they did. So, now, seeing Kili safe over my knee helped loosen some of the knots in my stomach created by this troll mishap. Those knots would loosen even more when Fili took his brother's place.  
  
Kili began to make small wriggling moves the warmer his bottom became. As usual, he shattered fairly quickly. He felt his loss of dignity so, this youngling. Still cupping his face in his hands, Kili tried to muffle his cries within his palms. I find this curiously endearing, so I permitted the lad his attempt to hide what he clearly felt was a disgraceful lack of warrior control. That was alright for now. After all, he wouldn't be able to smother his wails for long. He was consistent, my young nephew. Kili's embarrassment combined with his rapidly heating backside to completely undo him. He lacked his older brother's amazing stubborn resistance. That was why I'd chosen to spank Kili first. I had run across a curious inconsistency in this business and I wanted to clear it up, something that had to do with the all-important third member involved - Master Baggins.  
  
Earlier in the evening when Balin, Gandalf, the halfling and I were being escorted to Elrond's chambers to discuss the map, I dropped back to walk next to the hobbit. Leaning over, I said in a low voice close to his ear, "What happened when you took my nephews their supper last night?"  
  
He flinched, cast me a wide-eyed stare and said, "What? Oh, uhh, nothing happened. Nothing at all. I just, well, I-I just -" He shrugged. "I took them their supper. Nothing else."  
  
"Nothing else?" I raised a brow. "Come, Master Baggins. What. Happened?"  
  
The halfling glanced up at me, looked away, heaved a great sigh, shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out, wriggled his small nose and winced up at the stars. I waited. Finally, he huffed and said, "Look, I-I-I took them their supper and we saw the uprooted trees, then we spotted a light, and we went closer, and then a troll came thudding by with Myrtle and Minty. So, as official burglar, I, well, I . . . I volunteered to go . . . look into things."  
  
 _'Volunteered?'_ Hmm. I had expected to hear a story similar to the one my nephews told me, but from the halfling's viewpoint. It seemed he had written a new version. I silently strolled beside him, thinking this over.  
  
"You volunteered," I said.  
  
"Yes," he said with a quick nod.  
  
"To do what exactly?"  
  
He shrugged. "Whatever I could."  
  
"And just what might that have been?"  
  
"I couldn't know that, could I?" he replied, sounding a touch impatient. "But they had our ponies, MY pony, to be precise. My Myrtle! And they were going to eat them. Well, I could hardly just stand by and watch, could I? I had to do something. I had to try to rescue them."  
  
"Alone," I said, fascinated. "Were you armed?"  
  
"Well . . . nnno."  
  
"So, without so much as a knife in your hand you were going to rescue four ponies from three trolls all by yourself."  
  
And it was here that the good-natured, courteous Master Baggins became surprisingly belligerent.  
  
"Yes!" he declared in a brusque, hushed tone. "All by myself! Why not? If I'm a burglar then I'm a burglar and it's best I do my job. Those trolls were going to chop up Myrtle and throw her in a stew pot along with three other ponies we couldn't spare. So, yes! I had to do what I could. Slip in, free the ponies, then slip out quick as you please. By myself. Nobody suggested it. Nobody made me do it. Nobody pushed me down the path. I alone decided my course. And I'd do it again!"  
  
He paused to draw breath and fire me a disdainful look. I was so startled I could do nothing but stare down at the fuming little fellow who went right on fuming.  
  
"Look, I'm not entirely inept! You hired me to be a burglar and it was time I started making a contribution, and that's what I'd set about doing when - when -" He paused again to huff, then: "It's not my fault that dratted troll decided to use me as a pocket handkerchief!"  
  
I lowered my head, fighting an unsuitable grin.  
  
"That was disgusting, you know," he grumbled on, "being covered with that . . . that . . . it was revolting! But I didn't complain. I didn't say anything about it then and I have nothing more to say about the matter now. It's over and done with."  
  
Oh, really? He finally settled down and marched along silently. It took me a moment to consider what just happened. There certainly was a lot of something uncomfortable roaring around inside young Master Baggins to make him explode so incautiously. But I would get to the bottom of it, along with something else his outburst had just made plain, for that had been quite an ill-mannered display from the amiable halfling. I rarely heard such an aggressive tone directed my way.  
  
I understood his agitation. I even sympathized with it. But a company of warriors adhered to a code of deference to leadership and, agitation aside, this little one could have been more respectful. But where would a hobbit have learned about a warrior's code? Or, for that matter, obedience to orders and the consequences of insubordination?  
  
As to his version of 'volunteering', I felt certain my nephews had told me the truth. They were ashamed to admit they had sent an unarmed hobbit in alone amongst the trolls. I doubted they would have told such an uncomfortable tale unless it was true. So Master Baggins had not only just lied to me, he was one of the most inept little fibbers I had ever seen. I felt a sudden urge to burst out laughing. Up ahead Gandalf coughed and rumbled. I wondered how much he had heard. But he said nothing, leaving the halfling to me.  
  
Once again I leaned close to the hobbit and murmured, "I always find out what I want to know, little grocer, so I trust you are being truthful with me."  
  
He gave me an indignant look, stuck his turned-up nose in the air, muttered, "Excuse me," and he trotted ahead to walk with Gandalf, Lindir and Balin. I'd smirked and narrowed my eyes on my wee grocer's back. Oh, there was much more here than Master Baggins was willing to reveal, perhaps more than he knew of himself. I had ideas as to what was at the heart of this particular mystery, but I would settle for nothing short of the absolute truth, and I would demand it from each party over my knee. I was content to leave my burglar for last, as it was going to be a difficult, and undoubtedly lengthy lesson for him.  
  
Now, however, Kili was due a good long spanking. He was never given quarter simply because he broke down quickly. He had been crying into his palms for some time now, and struggling valiantly to hide it. I spanked him in silence, watching Kili's upset increase and giving him some leeway to thrash about. Impossible for this one to remain still for long. He actually became slightly frantic if he was not allowed to move and kick. Again, so unlike his brother. When Kili reached the point wherein he shot a hand back to cover his reddening backside, it was time to start talking.  
  
"None of that," I said in a scolding tone, fastening Kili's hand to his back. "Now. Answer me. Why? Why didn't you come find me when you saw some ponies were missing?"  
  
"D-Didn't want to worry y-you!" Kili cried.  
  
"Who did not want to worry me? Master Baggins?"  
  
"No!" Fili blurted out, breaking the 'no interrupting' rule I had set up long ago. But waiting his turn and watching his little brother gasp and wriggle and cry had, as it sometimes did, proven too much for Fili. I paused in mid-swat and looked over at him. My fair, red-faced nephew swallowed hard and glanced away.  
  
"Sorry," he muttered to the ground.  
  
"One more word and you shall do your waiting back at camp," I rumbled.  
  
It was the most severe warning I could have given Fili, for the only thing worse than watching his little brother take a spanking was leaving his little brother to take a spanking alone. Fili's protective instincts burned brightly within him, even though Kili was more than able and loudly objected to his big brother's care.  
  
Kili was a more polished and natural warrior than many twice his age. But he was impulsive and rash, racing headlong into dangerous situations and making the incautious mistakes of youth. His older brother was no better, and although they were invaluable warriors, they were also too heedless for their own good, or anyone else's. So it came as no surprise that these two had decided to avoid coming to me when those uprooted trees were staring them in the face.  
  
"Let us start back at the beginning."  
  
"AHHHHHH! P-Please, unc-cle!"  
  
"Master Baggins arrived to find that two ponies were gone. What happened then?"  
  
"Bilbo asked . . . he said, s-shouldn't we t-tell you!"  
  
I paused in mid-swing and stared down at Kili's dark head. "What?"  
  
"He said, _'Shouldn't we t-tell Thorin?'_ That's what Bilbo s-said!"  
  
I glanced over at Fili. Looking freshly ashamed, he nodded. Interesting. Wisdom from the wee halfling. I brought my hand down again, resuming where I had left off, much to Kili's wailing dismay. "And what did you say to Master Baggins' suggestion?"  
  
"That we d-didn't want to w-worry you!"  
  
"Both of you told him that?" I asked, knowing the answer.  
  
Kili kicked, choked a soft sob, then shook his head, his dark hair flying. Protecting his brother, of course. Why else would Fili have broken the rules and interrupted earlier if not to assume rightful blame? Nevertheless --  
  
"Kili. Stop that at once. Answer me." And I provided some extra incentive by tipping my knee up and spanking the tender undercurve of Kili's backside.  
  
"AHHHHHHHH! Noooooooo! No, s-sir! N-Not both of us!"  
  
"Your brother said it?" I asked, shooting Fili another glance. He gave me a tragic look and nodded again.  
  
"Yes! Y-Yes, sir!" Kili sputtered, and I lowered my leg, returning my swats to his hot bottom. He seemed less than appreciative. Then he stammered, "Fili told Bilbo, no, not to worry you, but-but I was about to tell Bilbo the same thing!"  
  
"Were you indeed?" I fought a grin at Kili's noble, though ill-advised confession. "Do you think this matter would have ended better had you followed Master Baggins' suggestion and come to me?"  
  
"I-I dunno, if -- AHHHHHH! Yes! Y-Yes! We should've l-listened to Bilbo!"  
  
Odd as it felt to agree with that, I had to say, "Aye. You should have."  
  
Kili rubbed his face on his sleeve and murmured, "Uh-huuuhhhh."  
  
"Now, tell me this again," I said in a freshly somber tone, "did the halfling volunteer to rescue the ponies?"  
  
Kili paused as though wondering at the strange question, then: "Nooo! Bilbo didn't v-volunteer. He did n-not!"  
  
I pressed my lips together. I knew it. Lying little hobbit-brat.  
  
"And whose idea was it to send him off alone?"  
  
"I-I-I -"  
  
"Best tell me quickly, little laddie."  
  
Kili sucked a sharp breath at that special name, then he wept harder, and I released his hand so that he could once again bury his face in his palms. Growing concerned about his now red backside, I started lessening the force of my spanks and softly said, "Kili. Tell me. Now."  
  
Lifting his head he blurted out, "My idea! It was m-my idea! Bilbo said _'we have to do something,'_ and I-I said, _'yes, you should!'_ " And he collapsed into fresh tears, too overcome to say more.  
  
There was, of course, more left to say, but Kili had done his part, or at least all he was capable of doing. Saving the rest of my questions for his older brother, I spanked Kili lightly and easily and allowed him to utter all his heartfelt 'sorries.' When he'd finished, I said, "Apologies accepted. But you and your brother shall apologize to the Company as well. Tonight."  
  
Kili groaned between his hiccuping and crying. This was going to be difficult for my proud young warriors. Nevertheless it would be done.  
  
"You know it is just," I said, looking over at his sad-eyed brother. "Because you disobeyed my orders the Company could have been destroyed most savagely last night by some thick-headed trolls. So you shall tell the others you are sorry."  
  
Harsh words for two already upset lads to hear, nevertheless they needed to be said. Kili buried his face in his hands again and wept long and low.  
  
"Y-Yesssirrrr."  
  
I stopped and rested his hand on his hot, glowing bottom. Slowly rubbing his back I kept him over my lap until his weeping began to slow and quiet. "Shhh," I murmured. "It is over now. You were very brave, little laddie. All is well. Shhh."  
  
It took some time, but when Kili finally calmed, I pulled up his breeches, lifted him from my lap and stood him before me, steadying him, then I led him to the opposite bench. His brother quickly stood and I guided Kili down on his stomach and watched him stretch out. Crouching down beside his head, I smoothed the wild, dark locks from his face, murmuring, "Lie still and rest now. And remember." I placed my finger to my lips. "Shhhh. No interrupting."  
  
I doubt he would have been capable of it. Fully spent, Kili gazed at me, his dark eyes soft and drowsy-looking. He twitched a bit, drew his fist up, moved his finger to his lips, and hushed a quiet, "shhh." I couldn't help grinning at him. Then I stood, and faced his bravely waiting older brother.  
  
Fili gave every indication of being unruffled when he most assuredly was. I admired his effort, but I was also eager to shatter that hard earned composure of his. Grabbing his upper arm I hustled him back to my bench, yanked him over my lap and followed the same steps I had taken with his younger brother, lifting Fili's shirt and slowly drawing his breeches over his backside and down his long legs. This never unnerved Fili as much as it did his younger brother, nevertheless he buried his face in his crossed arms and hid beneath his thick tawny hair as Kili had done, showing in his more subtle way that he was anxious indeed.  
  
I made him lay quietly and wait whilst I took in the sight of my older nephew stretched out safe over my knee as his brother had been. I needed to see them this way after a frightening episode for which they were accountable. And when I'd had my fill of that reassuring sight I raised my hand and brought it down and the small garden resounded once more with another CRACK! Again, both lads flinched. That first spank always sounded loud when all was quiet.  
  
It took a lot of spanking to make Fili lose control. He broke later rather than sooner. But Fili held out in order to invite a more severe spanking. As the older brother he felt accountable for what had happened. Pure folly, of course. There was no restraining Kili if he was determined to be adventurous and Fili was usually in the thick of things right alongside his brother. He would then try to assume full responsibility for whatever mess they had made despite his little brother's protests.  
  
This time, however, Fili was indeed the chiefly responsible party, and that was what I had saved to discuss with him, but first I needed to spank him into a more pliable state. That was fine with me. This matter could have proven fatal for all had Gandalf not arrived. True, the halfling had tried to stall matters, and he did save Bombur, but the whole time he was cooking up his tale about parasites my trussed up dwarves were still cooking on the spit. So I had no trouble whatsoever in giving my elder nephew exactly what the lad thought he deserved. I thought he deserved it, too.  
  
I spanked Fili silently, steadily and with an enthusiasm I had no intention of regretting. And, thankfully true to form, it took him some time before he reached the point wherein he could no longer keep still. When he began writhing and straining and making small labored sounds, he was ready to talk. I went right to the heart of the matter.  
  
"Now, nephew," I began, "why did you refuse Master Baggins' suggestion to come tell me what had happened?"  
  
That was precisely what had set all this in motion, and why Fili was the chiefly responsible party. For if he had answered Bilbo by saying, _'Yes, we should go tell Thorin at once,'_ Kili would have supported his older brother's decision and we could have quickly and quietly gathered the rest of the ponies and moved the camp, slipping off into the night, far away from the vicinity of the trolls. We would have lost but a few ponies, a small price to pay. My lads would still have been answerable for having left their post, but none of the Company would have nearly ended up as troll fodder.  
  
In a hushed voice, Fili said, "I didn't want to worry y--"  
  
"No," I said with an extra firm whack. "I want the real reason."  
  
He arched up, tensed and went silent. I watched him grapple with himself, his tenacious will fighting his hot backside. Incredibly, he might need yet more time before he was ready to own up to the reason behind his refusal to find me. And that was alright. I knew the answer and I was content to keep right on spanking him until he was ready to be honest with himself and with me. So I kept on for awhile before giving Fili another chance to speak.  
  
"You should really consider answering me truthfully, lad," I said, watching him clench his fists and writhe. "I shall keep this up until you do. As you well know, my arm is tireless. Your choice."  
  
A low gasp came from the other bench and I glanced up to see Kili staring fixedly at us, his liquid eyes full of dismay. Amazing that he could watch his brother take a spanking, especially the kind of spanking Fili invited. But, unless his own ordeal had taken so much out of him that he fell into exhausted dozing, Kili rarely failed to stay loyally attentive, just as his brother had for him.  
  
I fired him a stern look and stopped spanking long enough to press my finger to my lips in another 'shhh' gesture. Kili blinked, drew his knotted fist up and pressed it to his closed lips as though to block any further sound from escaping.  
  
Fili was now squirming and trembling and showing signs of genuine difficulty. His hand shot around, palm up, then he halted halfway to his goal and drew it back, once again burying his face in his crossed arms.  
  
"Good lad," I murmured, marveling, as I usually did, at his restraint.  
  
He bucked up a few times, gasped and then, at last, his first whimper came. Ah. Better.  
  
"Fili. Come. Tell me," I quietly commanded. "Why did you not follow the halfling's advice? Why did you not alert me when you saw the ponies were missing?"  
  
He was just barely holding on, his body rigid and quivering, his breath coming in short desperate huffs. Just a little more incentive--  
  
"I know it is hard," I said in a gentle tone, "but you will tell me now. It's alright. Do not be afraid, little beardling."  
  
And, as it had been with his brother, the special name was simply too much for my valiantly struggling nephew. It was as though I had said, _'No matter what you tell me, I shall always care for you.'_  
  
Fili burst into deep, muffled sobs. When this lad finally shattered he truly shattered. I stopped spanking, giving him time to lose himself in his yielding, for yielding was so very hard for Fili. He wept into his crossed arms, then, clearly needing more air, he turned his head to the side and continued his low, husky crying. I waited, and when his breathing became less ragged and his sobs less wrenching, I began spanking him again, using a little less strength as we still had much to cover and my stubborn lad's backside had become an amazing shade of red.  
  
Fili rarely kicked, but he writhed and wriggled and his legs strained and stretched. He had buried his face in his crossed arms again, half-smothering his low, throaty wails, but he knew what was expected of him, so he lifted his head and in a broken voice he rasped, "I-I didn't want you to know that we'd disobeyed your or-orders."  
  
"Ahh," I said, and since he had so bravely admitted this painful truth, I helped him along by doing his explaining for him. "You were not really concerned about worrying me."  
  
"N-Noo, sirrrr!"  
  
"You could not admit that you had left your post and that something as large as a troll had slipped past your watch, so you gave Master Baggins a different reason for not coming to find me."  
  
Fili wept anew and squirmed and nodded his head. I swatted him hard.  
  
"AHHHHH!"  
  
"Answer me."  
  
"Y-Yesssir! Didn't want to tell you!"  
  
"When I give you an order, little beardling, I expect it to be obeyed."  
  
"Yessirrr!"  
  
He understood the gravity of what he had done, but Fili needed the chance to fully atone for it in all its terrible entirety, so I said, "Because you could not admit that you had disobeyed my orders, our quest nigh came to an end. The Company was nearly destroyed, and Erebor lost to our people."  
  
He paused in his cries, a shudder and a long groan rippling through him. I felt his horror. He had likely already considered this darkest of consequences, but hearing it given voice hit him like a blow from a sword. In part I hated having to speak the truth so plainly, but it was the truth, and it needed to come out where Fili could look at it and accept it and, hopefully, learn from it. Although, when it came to my nephews learning from their mistakes, I had been hoping such hopes for many years now.  
  
"Ohhh!" Fili wailed, the sound coming from deep in his body. "Ohhhhhh!"  
  
Understanding how painful this had to be for him, I gave him a moment, resting my palm on his hot backside. "It must have been a grim sight for you and your brother," I murmured. "The uprooted trees and the missing ponies. Something very bad had happened, and you should have been there."  
  
"Y-Yesssirrr! Bad, very b-bad!"  
  
"So you included the halfling in your problem, hopefully to salvage the mess you had made before I learned of it." I swatted him hard.  
  
"AHHHH! Yesssirrr!"  
  
"Hiding the truth is a form of lying, is it not?" Again I swatted him hard.  
  
"AHHHH! Y-Yessirrr!"  
  
"Are you ever permitted to lie to me, little beardling, or to hide a hard truth because you cannot admit that truth to me?" Several hard swats this time.  
  
"AHHHHH! Noooooo! No, never!"  
  
"No indeed," I said, adding a few more powerful swats and listening to him cry out again. "You are never, _never_ to lie to me, either of you!"  
  
"Nooosirrr!"  
  
Fili's weeping grew more intense, overwhelming him now. I paused again, and when I had borne all I could of his broken, hushed crying, I reached down and stroked his thick hair, saying, "Shhh. Shhhhhhh. Hush now. I know you feel badly." I glanced over at a transfixed, tearful Kili. "But we have been here before, have we not? Times when you have disobeyed me and ended up across my lap?"  
  
"Yessirrrr."  
  
I rubbed Fili's back, making him tremble, then I gave him permission and listened to him tell me how sorry he was over and over again. "Shhhh, enough now," I finally murmured, patting his backside. "Apologies accepted, little beardling." And for some time I let him rest, let him feel safe where he was, throbbing bottom and all.  
  
"Heed me, both of you," I then said. "You have your apology to make to the Company, but this matter is now finished between us. All is forgiven. You have answered for your wrong doing and it is time to move on. But you know what I now have to say to you both." Fili and Kili went very still, listening, reaching for what they knew was coming, what I had ever said to them after spanking them.  
  
"No matter what you have done, you can never disappoint me. I shall never turn away from you, nor dismiss you, nor leave you alone with your guilt. I am now, as I have ever been, proud of you."  
  
I felt Fili moan and shudder and I looked over to see Kili close his eyes, tears glistening on his lashes. My words had ever affected them deeply, and they needed to hear those words. For I truly never did think less of them for the mistakes they made or their follies of youth. My beardling brats were, after all, still so young, and I truly was, no matter what, proud of them.  
  
I drew Fili's breeches back over his glowing bottom, grinning when he tried to hide his hissing. Picking him up, I put him on his feet and steadied him, then I crossed to Kili and picked him up as well. They stood before me, my two glassy-eyed lads, having survived yet another trip over my knee, and I smiled at them and gathered each one in my arms and held them closely for several long moments as I always did, stroking their hair, easing their trembling and murmuring, "All over. Goooood lad. I am proud of you."  
  
When I had released them they cast me timid, vulnerable glances and swiped their forearms over their damp faces as though hoping to erase any remaining evidence of what had just happened. Fighting another urge to smile, I gave them a moment to compose themselves, then I lost the battle and grinned at them.  
  
"Go now," I said, "and send the halfling to me."  
  
to be continued --


	2. Chapter 2

They both flinched, as though I had swatted their tender backsides.

"Wh-What?" Kili sputtered. "Bilbo? You're not going to-to --!"

"Spank him?" I said. "Indeed I am."

Kili gaped at me. "But, you cannot--!"

I lifted a brow.

Fili recovered from shocking news better than his little brother did. "Kili," he said in a quiet 'calm down' tone. "Thorin knows what needs to be done. It isn't for us to question him."

Kili looked stricken. "But he's just a little halfling and it wasn't his fault! And he saved Bombur! And-And --"

I placed my hands on Kili's shoulders and looked straight at him. "Enough," I said gently. "Master Baggins played a part in this, just as you two did. It would be unjust to discipline you and not him."

"But, he's so . . . so little."

Kili studied me with grim intensity. I cupped the side of his face, saying, "I understand your concerns, but you must trust me to know that 'tis but a small hobbit backside beneath my fearsome hand."

My nephew's dark eyes searched mine, then he lowered his gaze and said in a tone of resigned sadness, "Sorry. I-I know you'll be careful. I . . . I'm sorry."

"Shhh," I said, smiling. I dropped my hand, and gave his backside a light swat, making him hiss. "'Tis alright, my tenderhearted little laddie."

Fili nudged his shoulder against his brother's and said, "Bilbo will survive this. He survived three trolls who were going to eat him, stood right up and gave them a mouthful of sass. I think he can survive Thorin." Kili turned to his brother with a half-grin that Fili returned.

"You can't jump in and save him every time, little brother," Fili said, brushing Kili's hair out of his eyes. "And you can't always be there to catch him in your arms. So come. Let's go send him out here to his fate."

My nephews then turned to me. They looked tousled and swollen-eyed and well-disciplined, but gone was the quiet, haunted look they had worn since the troll mishap. They looked like themselves again, clearly feeling better. They cast me one last bashful look, then turned and headed back down the path. I watched them disappear between the high hedges, then I stood staring after them, pondering what I had to do next. Spank a hobbit. How did one spank a hobbit? The same way one spanked a couple of nephews, but with less force.

I rolled my eyes, turned and began to slowly stroll, staring at the ground, hands clasped behind me. I recalled last night, Fili pounding into camp, yelling, _"The trolls have Bilbo! They're going to eat him! Kili's holding them off!"_

I shot up, roaring, grabbed my sword and raced after Fili, the Company right behind me, weapons in hand. No time to ask, 'what trolls?' They were going to eat my burglar. Kili was in terrible danger. I ran. We tore through the woods, arriving just in time to see the halfling flying through the air and into Kili's open arms. My fierce band burst into the clearing, yelling battle cries and attacking those three trolls as though they were no bigger than pesky goblins. A fine skirmish followed. I was more than proud of my scrappy troop of courageous warriors, and we would have fought until we'd beaten them, but for a certain wee grocer.

Aye, Gandalf was right about the little one's quick thinking, but I knew why, and for whom, my dwarves had been forced to drop their weapons and stand down in the first place. I stopped an impulsive Kili from racing to the halfling's rescue, then I just stood still, staring up in mute shock.

He looked so small in those massive troll hands. He did not scream nor sob. He stared straight down at me, his eyes locked on mine with a terrified, _'help me, help me, please'_ expression that hit me deep in my chest. My burglar was about to be torn limb from limb, and in the few seconds it took me to consider the fact that a warrior never laid down his arms, I knew I had no choice. No choice.

I hate having no choice. I particularly resented having no choice thrust upon me because of this wee grocer. I knew he would be nothing but trouble. I had told Gandalf I would not be responsible for the little one and just look what had happened. He'd gotten himself captured and put me in an impossible position. I was doing what I'd told Gandalf I could not do; I was making myself answerable for our halfling's fate. I had chosen to sacrifice my dwarves, our quest, everything I had worked and planned for because a hobbit was in danger of being ripped to pieces. But there was, of course, no other choice.

That infernal wizard had much to answer for.

Surrender had gained us nothing. It had only put off the time and the manner of the halfling's death. I lay there in a humiliating heap, neck deep in a smelly troll sack, half my troop piled around me in sacks of their own, the other half turning on a spit. I saw no way out of this. I watched my warriors cooking, wishing with all my heart that Master Baggins had not come racing after the Company that day in the Shire. Another hour on the trail and we would have been too far away for the little fellow to follow after us. And I could have avoided feeling responsible for him.

A hobbit for a burglar. Infernal wizard.

But, that morning in the Shire, when I turned and saw the unexpected sight of Master Baggins running towards us, calling and waving the contract, something within my heart leapt. I watched Balin study the signature, but mostly I had watched the halfling. Dressed smartly for a journey, haversack on his back, he looked excited and full of hope. And, suddenly, to my surprise, I felt hopeful, too. I hoped Gandalf was right about him. I hoped this small creature was sturdier than he looked, and that he had the stamina he would need for the journey. I hoped he was wise enough to listen to others more experienced than he was. I hoped he wouldn't be a nuisance. I hoped he stayed alive.

But from the beginning I was fighting an inner battle regarding Master Baggins. I was at odds with myself, torn between feeling pleased he was with us and resenting his presence. I felt Gandalf had forced him upon me. I doubted the halfling's commitment. The further we journeyed from his cozy hearth the more I felt reluctantly watchful over him and burdened by him. I found myself growling at him, so irritated by my private war that I turned my anger on this small source of my discomfort. It was unfair of me. My discomfort was not the halfling's fault. It was mine.

Nevertheless, I had enough to concern me. So I struggled to distance myself from our burglar. I did not want to care about him or watch out for him or wonder about him or know anything about him. Master Baggins was here for one purpose only, and as long as he kept his distance and stayed out of my way we would get along fine.

But, although I tried to deny it, I felt moved by this cheerful halfling with his quick laugh and his trusting manner. And I was not alone in that. Even the toughest amongst our Company had become fond of him. Dwalin kept a close eye on him. So did Bofur. The halfling had an astonishing affect upon my stouthearted dwarves. They watched over him. They guarded him. I saw it happen. When we hid against the boulder during the orc pack pursuit, Dwalin pressed the little one securely against the rock behind his muscled arm. When the elves were riding down upon us Bofur dragged him to the center of our ranks and jumped in front of him, maddock at the ready. And they were not simply defending the Company's burglar because he was an asset. Their fondness went deeper than that. The hobbit kindled something within them, and he affected me as well.

I had seen hobbits once or twice in my travels, though I'd had no past dealings with them. Now, during our march, I found myself glancing behind to check on our burglar and I studied him at night when he sat near the campfire, his dark eyes drowsy and unfocused. He was so curiously small in build, his clever little fingers and hands delicate, like a human child's. I found him fascinating. And it was during those times that I felt a fierce protectiveness towards this youngling. I felt I'd do anything to keep him safe. But then he would suddenly glance at me, and I'd frown and look away. I hated to admit it, but Master Baggins, simply by his presence amongst us, was a small force to contend with.

And now I was about to spank that small force, take him over my knee, pull down his britches and heat up his bare little backside. Was spanking a common practice amongst hobbits? If it was not Master Baggins was about to be powerfully shocked. And if it was a common practice amongst hobbits, Master Baggins was about to be just as powerfully shocked.

I ran my palm down my face, wishing myself anywhere but in this garden waiting for a halfling in need of a spanking. He deserved it, no question. But he wouldn't know he deserved it the way my nephews had known their fate. He wouldn't know that I was doing this for his future protection, that if he hoped to stay alive he had to learn about obedience to orders and the consequences awaiting him for unnecessary dangerous actions.

I had no need of a halfling hero, nor did I want the distraction of thinking about him taking risks he had no business taking. He was not a warrior, and I could imagine no better way for him to cause trouble for himself and for the Company than to start running about imitating my nephews. If they chose to be reckless Fili and Kili were better able to handle themselves than this little one was. Should he continue playing heroic games Master Baggins would likely not survive our quest.

And I suddenly realized that there was nowhere I would rather be than in this garden, waiting for a halfling in need of a spanking.

"You wanted to see me?"

I spun, startled. There he stood, watching me. And I hadn't heard a sound at his approach. Gandalf was right. Hobbits were remarkably light on their feet.

*************

Thorin Oakenshield has quite an extraordinary frown. I'm getting used to his frown. It's often aimed my way, making me wonder what I've done to deserve it. He grumbles at me, too, though I don't know why.

 _"I don't think he likes me much,"_ I'd confided to Gandalf a few days out from the Shire.

 _"Thorin Oakenshield has had little experience with hobbits,"_ the wizard said. _"Give him time. And a wide berth. At least until he gets used to you."_

We'd been traveling for some time now and I was beginning to wonder just how long it would take for Thorin to get used to me. And it was troubling. At first I used to ride along, turning it over in my mind, and when I couldn't come up with any particular reason for his frowning and grumbling I'd start perhaps-ing. Perhaps he hadn't really wanted me to join this quest and now he was stuck with me. Perhaps he thought I was a pretty poor excuse for a burglar . . . well, I had to agree with him there. Perhaps he simply didn't like hobbits. I didn't want to be unfair to him with all my perhaps-ing, so somewhere along the way I stopped. Still, Thorin's frowning and grumbling remained a mystery to me.

He was frowning at me now, but this time I thought I knew why he was frowning and the reason why he wanted to speak to me alone. And he was right. I owed him an apology. I'd been impolite to him this evening when he dropped back to talk to me on our way to see Lord Elrond. I'd been worse than impolite. I'd been hot-headed and disrespectful and I regretted it.

Because I did respect Thorin. I found him fascinating. He did everything with perfect authority and a straightforward commanding manner. I admired him more and more, despite the frowning. And he wasn't always frowning. At the end of the day I'd watch him amongst his Company, slowly moving from dwarf to dwarf, speaking a word to each of them in a low friendly tone, now grinning, now laughing softly, now listening to them with quiet patience, nodding his lowered head or gazing at them intently, and when he came to me he'd usually glance my way and say something like, _"A good day, Master Baggins. Get some rest."_ And I'd smile at his notice and long for more of it.

Oh, he had a quick temper and a thunderous roar when provoked, but he also had long periods of quiet reflectiveness. Sometimes at night when the dwarves' snoring woke me up, I'd see Thorin sitting nearby, usually atop a small boulder. His gaze would wander over the sleeping Company, and I'd close my eyes to slits, feigning sleep until he looked off, and then I'd watch him staring into the night with exquisite stillness, lost in thought. I'd watch until I had to turn away, unwilling to intrude further upon what seemed such a private moment.

Thorin was an enigma and a powerfully compelling presence and I was fast becoming in awe of him, especially after hearing Balin's tale of Thorin and the pale orc. I'd listened, enthralled, watching the Company rise to their feet, one after the other, standing to gaze at their prince. How they loved him and revered him. And, having never before met the likes of Thorin Oakenshield, I wanted to love and revere him, too. I wanted him to look at me and see a hobbit who had value, even if it was only as a burglar. I longed for him to smile at me once in a while, the way he smiled at his dwarves. I wanted to be one of those he cared about.

So why, oh, why had I blown up at him tonight? He hadn't deserved that. He'd just leaned over and asked me a simple, 'what happened?' question. But his deep, rumbly voice was right against my ear and a shiver shot down my spine, and for reasons I've yet to fathom I felt a jolt of panic. I felt I had something to hide and I'd best hide it quickly. I felt I'd done something wrong. I took a moment to ask myself why I felt that way, and the next thing I knew I was telling Thorin Oakenshield a big whopping lie. I'd _volunteered_ to approach the trolls? I'd flat-out lied to him. I couldn't believe I'd done something so disgraceful. And once I'd done it I couldn't then make myself say, _"Oh, by the way, Thorin, I just told you a big whopping lie, but I trust you won't think less of me for it."_

Of all the dim-witted things to do! I was furious with myself. Now I was stuck with my idiotic lie, and when Thorin pursued the matter with more annoying questions a fire ignited within me, triggered by his surprised manner and his, you-cannot-be-serious undertone when I answered him. It seemed he was doubting my competence, and I felt an intense need to, of all the absurdity, defend my abilities as a burglar. A wealth of heated prattle spilled out of me. My big whopping lie grew bigger. I said I'd chosen to do what I did with no prodding or coaxing. It sounded a lot better than telling him that his nephews had shoved my cowering, unwilling self towards the trolls.

But when he called me "little grocer" and made his threat about finding out the truth, I'd had enough. I trotted ahead to join Gandalf. Moments later, after settling down, I recalled what I'd said and how I'd said it and regret and shame washed over me. Fine way to behave with someone I longed to have care about me. Spouting off to Thorin Oakenshield . . . this was no way to earn a fond look from him.

At least I needn't wonder why he was frowning at me now.

"Master Baggins," he said, making me jump. "Come. Join me. There are some matters we need to discuss."

I took a few steps his way, then stopped and said, "I think I know what you want to talk about."

He stared back at me. "Oh?"

"And you're right."

"Am I?"

"Oh, yes! I owe you an apology."

His eyebrows rose. "An apology."

"Ohhh, yes. And I do most sincerely apologize."

He watched me steadily. It was rather pleasant. He wasn't frowning at me. Then: "What are you apologizing for?"

"What for?" I blinked at him. "Why, for my outburst, of course. Earlier this evening? When we were on our way to see Lord Elrond?"

"Ahh. Of course." He turned and began to slowly stroll away, head lowered, hands clasped behind his back.

"I was impolite and disrespectful, and I regret my unmannerly words."

Thorin kept strolling, studying the ground. "Mmmm."

"I-I don't know what got into me," I said. "I don't usually lose my temper. I'm truly very sorry."

He fired me a glance over his shoulder and gave a quick nod. Evidently dwarves go about this differently than hobbits, because the proper response when someone has apologized is to say, _'apology accepted,'_ or _'oh, that's alright,'_ or _'don't let it trouble you,'_ or _'all's forgiven.'_ I'd told him I was sorry in several different ways and he still didn't seem quite satisfied. Just how angry was he if he wouldn't accept my sincere apologies?

I readied myself to try again, but Thorin suddenly halted, turned and held up a palm to me. He wasn't smiling, but neither was he glaring. In fact, his eyes glittered. And all at once I remembered seeing that glitter before, late at night, when I sat drowsily watching the firelight and I'd sometimes shift my gaze to him. He'd be perched off away from the fire, but I could see him in the dimness, and he'd be watching me with a faintly amused look, his eyes glittering as they were now. Then a curtain would slam down and he'd frown and glance away, leaving me certain I'd been imagining things. I wasn't so certain now.

"We will get to your 'outburst,' Master Baggins," he said, the glitter suddenly vanishing, "but first we needs discuss something else."

"Something else?" I said. "What else?"

"Can you not guess?"

I shifted from foot to foot, completely baffled, and finally I said, "No. I can't think of a thing."

Thorin lowered his chin, leveled a direct look at me and said, "Trolls."

A hot jolt shot through me, just as it had earlier. He hadn't murmured in my ear this time. In fact he stood over by the benches near the fountain. But I felt that same queasy sense that I'd done something wrong. Only this time it was worse. I really had done something wrong. I'd lied to him. A big whopping lie, no less. And I had a terrible feeling that he knew that I'd lied. Or . . . perhaps he didn't know. Perhaps this wasn't about what had happened to cause the troll near-disaster.

"You look tense, Master Baggins. Are you well?"

I wanted to say, _'No! I've just gone through thirty seconds of panic and I'm still too flummoxed to think straight!'_ Guilt is a terrible thing.

"Come. Sit down."

 _'No, I don't want to sit,'_ I longed to say. _'And I don't want to stay here! In fact I'd rather be anywhere other than in this garden, talking to you about trolls.'_

"No," I said. "No, no, thank you. I'm fine." Ridiculous all this nervousness. Get hold of yourself, Bilbo! I shoved my hands in my pockets, put on my best Master of Bag End face and said in a confident tone, "So, what about the trolls?"

Thorin leaned back on one leg and studied me for a moment, then he seemed to decide something. Suddenly he headed my way with a determined stride and a look I couldn't quite place. I swallowed hard. No one in the Shire had ever looked at me with that look of . . . of gentle menace. Thorin did it exceptionally well. But I couldn't think why he was doing it. Freshly baffled, I watched him advance upon me.

 _"Run!"_ a voice inside me urged. But I couldn't move. He was getting closer. I was too spellbound to run. How ridiculous! Why would I run from Thorin? But he was almost upon me, that look of gentle menace very near, and now the voice screamed, _"RUUNNN!"_ and this time instinct took over. I spun and lifted a foot. It never touched ground.

Thorin grabbed me from behind, hoisted me up with one powerful arm, flipped me about and turned me face down, tucking me against his side.

"Ooomph!" I gasped and started thrashing around. "What are you --?"

"Settle down."

"What? You hoist me up like a-a sack of meal and you want me to settle down? Turn me loose and I'll consider it!" He chuckled softly, pivoted, and began striding. Lifting my head, I saw that he was heading towards one of the benches. I couldn't imagine what he thought he was doing.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, trying to break his hold on me.

"You shall find out soon enough. I told you; settle down," he said. So I struggled harder, though it had no effect upon him. He just snorted and muttered, "Stubborn little creature, aren't you?"

"If you think I can settle down when you're--! You don't have to carry m--! Put me dow--! I can walk you know!"

"I prefer to do it this way."

"Do what what way? This is most inappropriate, sir!" More soft chuckling. I bucked hard and yelled, "Put me down!"

"Very well." He halted.

"Finally! If I'd known it was that easy to get resul--ULP!" He shifted me around, and I now hung suspended in his big hands, reaching for the ground with my toes whilst he sat.

"Aren't you going to put me dow--oomph!" My stomach hit two hard -- legs? He had me over his lap! Thorin Oakenshield had turned me over his lap, my bottom up! And though it had happened to me only a few times when I was a nipper I knew exactly what went on when I'd been in this position.

"What are you --! You can't possibly --! Let go of me!"

Thorin said nothing. He just placed one heavy arm across my back, the other over my backside and he held me in place. I writhed to absolutely no avail. Finally, gasping, I came to my senses. There was nothing I could do to free myself. Thorin could hold me there all night if he chose to, and I hoped with all my heart that such was all he had planned.

I lay still, braced up on my arms, staring ahead, trying to think. I couldn't let myself believe he was really going to do what it seemed he might do. No. No. Impossible. I was an adult hobbit. A highly respected member of my community. He wouldn't do such an undignified thing to a highly respected adult hobbit. I wasn't sure I wanted his answer, but again I asked, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Thorin swiftly undid my braces, grabbed the back of my britches and pulled them down to my knees. Cool air touched my bare backside. My mouth fell open. A small strangled gasp flew from me. I stared ahead, horrified, heart racing, hot with embarrassment, so stunned I couldn't speak. He'd pulled down my--! I was--I was--! He-He couldn't . . . He just couldn't!

CRACK!

"AHH!" The hot sting on my bottom shot through me; every muscle tensed, and then another burning spank fell, and another and another and another. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't yell. I could only make sharp desperate sounds. I could only feel smack after hot heavy smack crash down upon me. It didn't seem real. Thorin Oakenshield was spanking me! And it huuurrrt! I found my voice: "AHHHHH! Stop it! Stop it! Don't! Let me go! Nooo! Pleeeeease don't!"

Stupid, feeble words poured out of me. Thorin had plainly gone deaf. Nothing I yelled slowed his steady spanks. His huge hand seemed to cover my whole bottom with one swat and it burned and burned and it was awful. Awful! I wrenched and writhed, bucked and kicked, anything to get away from that next fiery spank. I tried to hurl myself off his lap, to push up from the bench with both hands, all the while yelling words like, "NOO! Stop!Stop!Stop! AHHH! NOOO!"

Useless. Thorin just pushed me down more firmly. And before I could stop myself I flung my arm behind me, my fingers spread wide, a pathetic attempt to protect my stinging bottom. Futile. Utterly futile. Thorin just grabbed my wrist and drew my arm to the small of my back and held it there. Then he muttered something about 'a nuisance' and stopped. He stopped. I lay quivering. No next spank. He'd stopped.

My elbow collapsed and I lowered my forehead to my arm, gasping, trying to gulp a full shaky breath, my bottom burning. At last I could think beyond bracing for the next swat. He shifted me again. He was letting me up. No more of this. He'd stopped. It was over. Thank you, thank you, thank you, whatever powers stayed his hand. And now - now! Ooohhh, how I'd turn my fury on him for this indignity! This was it! It ended here. Contract or no, I was staying in Rivendell. Continue on with this brute? Risk another such attack? This hobbit was not that great a fool, thank you.

But . . . But, wait . . . oh, no! NO! Thorin turned me over his left knee and closed my legs between his, then he grabbed both my wrists, drew them behind me and held them down at the small of my back. Trapped! Locked in place! I couldn't move or kick; I could barely wriggle, and without my arms to brace me up my head hung down, just touching the bench.

"Hmm. This will not do." Thorin deigned to speak, but not to me.

I wrenched my neck up, Master of Bag End once more. "I c-couldn't agree more!" I snarled. "Let me up!"

He said in a distracted voice, "Are all hobbits as insolent as you are when being spanked?"

"What? Adult hobbits aren't treated in this humiliating manner!"

A pause, then: "Never?"

"No! Well," I huffed. "How the blazes would I know if adult hobbits are spanked?"

"Indeed. If they're anything like you, sir, they deserve to be," he muttered; then, suddenly, "Ah. This will work."

"What will wor -- ulp!" Thorin scooped me up over his lap again and began pulling my britches down my legs. "NOOO! DON'T!" I kicked and kicked and he stopped pulling, and I felt a triumphant tingle, then - CRACK!

"AHHHH!" My bottom clenched, my legs went rigid and straight and Thorin whisked my britches all the way off. A low blow in every respect. But I kept my opinion to myself, for that last swat of his brought home a sobering truth: Thorin could spank much harder than he already had been.

"Now," he said, closing my legs between his again, "what good did all that kicking do you?"

I couldn't speak. Embarrassment clogged my throat. What was awful before was awfuller now. Absolutely nothing on below my waist and scolded to boot. Again, this didn't seem real. I didn't want it to be real. But I really was lying face down over Thorin Oakenshield's lap, and I really had nothing on below my waist. My face was as hot as my bottom.

"Here, little grocer," Thorin murmured, and he tenderly lifting my hanging head, stuffed my bunched up britches underneath and pillowed me back down. The tension in my neck eased at once, but despite his kindly effort I was badly distracted by the hint that he was evidently preparing me for a longer stay. NO. NO! Absolutely not!

"Better?" Thorin asked, drawing my wrists behind me once more. "I don't want my burglar to end up with a stiff neck."

"After what you've done you're worried about my neck?" I snarled. "If you're so concerned about my well-being you can just let me go!"

"I am concerned indeed about your well-being," Thorin said in his low, deep rumble, "so I shall not let you go."

"But--"

"We are just getting started. We have much to discuss and you have a few lessons to learn, Master Baggins. So you will remain where you are until we fully understand one another."

I trembled, fury and dread surging through me. Back in the Shire I never felt both fury and dread surge through me. But, he hadn't actually said he would keep spanking me. Perhaps he wouldn't spank me more. Perhaps he just wanted to talk while keeping me in this mortifying position. Perhaps this is how dwarves did things, although, that seemed a stretch. Perhaps I'd best curb my rage and my tongue and try talking myself off his lap and out of the range of his strong arm and his wicked swing. Perhaps that was possible; only a few seconds had passed since he announced his ominous intent.

But then, to my horror, there was a subtle change in his body and I somehow knew he was raising his hand over my backside. Oh, NO! Not more! But of course there would be more. Why else would my britches be under my head instead of covering my bottom?

"Wait! Thorin! Wait! Please! Can't we talk about this?"

"Aye. We'll talk. Soon. But I do not like preliminary chatter. It changes nothing. We both know why you are here."

"But I-I don't! I don't know why I'm here and I don't know why you're doing this!"

"Aye. You do," Thorin said.

"Because I was cheeky and disrespectful and--" CRACK! "AHH!"

"You cannot truly believe that impertinence alone landed you where you are," he said, his hand resting on my backside. "Aye, you were indeed ill-mannered, but I am not that thin-skinned."

"But then --"

"I told you what we are here to discuss, Master Baggins. However, as you seem to have forgotten, I shall tell you again. Trolls."

"That's it? One word? 'Trolls?' What about the tr--" CRACK! "AHHH!"

"You asked me that before. After all that happened, and after all you were obviously trying to avoid telling me, you asked in your defiant tone, _'what about the trolls?'_ As I said, preliminary chatter is a waste of time. So, now that I've told you once again what we are here to discuss --"

"Then let's discuss it!" Discussing it couldn't end me in a worse position than I was right now, could it?

"Aye, we shall. Soon. You are not ready yet."

"I AM! I am ready!" I felt his hand leave my backside. "Oh, no! NO! You can't! No more! NOOO!"

He tsked and muttered, "Stubborn little grocer."

"Thorin, enough! You've made your point."

He rested his hand again and asked in a quizzical tone, "Have I? What point have I made?"

"That . . . that . . ." My mind went blank. Think, Bilbo! Think! "Your point is . . . is that . . .."

Thorin scoffed. I could just feel him getting ready to raise that hand again. I blurted out, "P-Please, Thorin! We're both reasonable adults. You don't have to do this!"

"I can decide for myself what course of action I choose to take."

"But I'll do whatever you want, talk about anything, listen to anything, apologize for anything!"

"And your apologies would be empty ones for there would be no real understanding behind them," he said with maddening calm.

I swallowed hard. "P-Please, please! I-I haven't been spanked since I was a wee hobbit."

"Mmm. I guessed as much from your antics during your short warm-up."

"'Short warm up?'" A new sick feeling rushed through me. "Oh, nooooooo--"

"Shhh, little burglar. I realize that 'tis but a small hobbit bottom over my knee. I shall give you no more than you can bear."

"You already have!"

He snorted. "Hardly."

"How do you know how much I can bear?" I demanded.

"You will tell me yourself," he said.

"I'm telling you now! I can bear no more of this!"

"Aye," he said, patting my bottom. "You can."

"You can't know tha--"

"I know that you are angry and combative and insolent. You cannot hear my words when you are fighting me, Master Baggins, and at present you have a great deal of fight in you. I intend to do something about that."

"By beating me into submission?" I asked in a bitter tone, my frustration making me reckless.

He sniffed a laugh. "I am spanking you, heating up your deserving halfling bottom, not beating you with my fists. I think you know there is a difference between the two. As you can see, you are telling me much with your rebellious behavior. And you've yet to shed a single tear."

Tears? I stared off. He wanted tears? He was going to spank me until I actually cried? How long had it been since I'd last cried? I never had occasion to cry. But Thorin Oakenshield was going to spank me until I cried? I almost cried at the thought.

Very well. If it was tears this vile dwarf wanted then tears he'd get. I could produce some right quick. Honor be hanged. I had no honor when someone had set my backside afire and was threatening more of the same. I couldn't afford honor.

"And should you decide to feign some tears to speed things along I will know it, and I shall become quite sorely displeased."

 _'Quite sorely displeased?'_ The way he said that was chilling. Loathsome dwarf! "You're already sorely displeased."

"Nay. Not at all," he said, patting my bottom again. "Now, I have indulged you with enough talk, so settle down and think over what I have said."

"Settle down?" I cried out, feeling his hand whoosh upwards. "I defy anyone in my position to settle down!"

He snorted a chuckle.

"AHHHH!" I clenched my bottom at his first fresh swat. It seemed to make things worse. Think over what he'd said? Owww! That's all I could think. Ow! Ow! Ow!

"You are making a lot of fuss for someone whose wee bottom is not yet red," he said. "You have no stamina, Master Baggins. We shall needs build up your endurance."

Everything coming out of his mouth was distressing. He wanted my bottom to be red and he wanted me to cry. And if his steady rhythm of swats was any indication this was about to get worse. Much, much worse. Merciful stars! I was unable to move or kick or flail my arms or do anything but lift my head and yell. Small comfort, that. Still, yell I did.

Think, Bilbo, think what to do. But I could think of nothing but that next spank, and then it would come, and I'd cry out, and I'd think of the next spank, and the next, and the next. Thorin was methodical and heavy-handed and horribly good at this. I longed to kick or flail around or do something! But I could barely wriggle. I had no way to escape the next spank and the next and the next, and they kept coming and coming, hot and stinging and relentless.

I had only my voice. Nothing stopped that, and I made the most of the only part of me permitted its freedom. I yelled, my wailed _"AHHHH!'s"_ mixing with the odd word that spilled out without my pre-consent, _"no"_ and _"don't"_ and _"stop!"_

But I didn't cry. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I gasped and gulped. I buried my head in my britches and bellowed, but rot him if he thought he'd make me cry! I tried thinking of something else, Bag End, my books, my garden, replenishing my larder, anything. All to no avail. Ridiculous effort. How could anyone concentrate on anything but this, this awful, hot, endless stinging?

I was going to cry. I didn't want to, but I was going to. Tears stung my eyes. I shut them and rubbed my face back and forth on the leg of my britches, wiping the wetness away. No. No crying. But my reserves were crumbling. How could I stop the tears? Distract. Distract myself in some other way. Don't focus on my bottom. I lifted my head and bit my lower lip. Hard. My cries became grunts I couldn't hold back. And I bit down harder. Ow! Pain from a new source. It helped, but I couldn't keep it up. I'd soon taste blood.

Thorin halted. I felt him quickly shift, and, sensing his nearness, I opened my eyes and turned my head. He had leaned down and was studying me, his hair pooling over the bench, his face close to mine. I stared at him, my eyes widening. He looked grim.

"Hmmph."

I didn't like the sound of that grunt, nor the low growl that followed. Thorin sat up and I felt his leg lift under my backside, raising it a little, and then --

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"This place under the curve of your wee bottom is most tender, is it not?"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Effective, though. It seems I shan’t needs tell you to spit out that lip of yours."

"AHHHHHHHHHH! P-Pleeeeeeeease! Noomorrre!"

"That was unsuitable, little burglar. I shall tolerate no such behavior. No biting of any kind. Understand?"

"Yes! Yes! Unner-unnerstand! But pleeeeeeaseAHHHHHHHH!"

He stopped and I collapsed on the soft cloth of my britches and lay there, gasping, shocked by how much that place on my backside stung, then--

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He'd lowered my bottom and picked right up where he left off, spanking my sore backside, and I clenched again and it hurrrrt and I kept bellowing. Would this never end? We'd surely been here half the night! I felt my will draining, tears burning behind my eyelids. I was trapped. I couldn't distract myself. I couldn't do anything to make him st--

"Why so stubborn, little one?" Thorin said in a low, kindly voice. "It will avail you nothing."

Perhaps it was his tone. Perhaps it was his words. He'd been calling me such names all along, 'little grocer,' and 'little burglar.' But 'little one' touched me in a different way and something wrenched inside and I burst into tears.

"Mmmm," Thorin purred. But he kept spanking me! Why wasn't he stopping? I'd given in. I was crying. In fact, I was wailing, tears spilling down my cheeks and heading for my britches. Surely my bottom was red enough to suit him. Now what? Think, Bilbo. Only you can get yourself out of this. But how? How to make him stop? And suddenly I remembered, _" . . . settle down and think over what I have said."_ Yes, alright, but what had he said? He'd said a lot. But, when I arrived, what had he wanted to talk ab--? Trolls. He'd wanted to talk about the trolls. He'd told me so twice. And what else had he -- _"After all that happened, and after all you were obviously trying to avoid telling me, you asked in your defiant tone,_ 'what about the trolls?'"

There it was. He must've known I was lying earlier tonight on the way to see Lord Elrond. But I hadn't wanted to talk about the trolls then and I didn't want to now. It felt like something lingered there, something uncomfortable, something I couldn't place and didn't want to think about, something I'd needed to hide and needed to keep hidden. So I'd tried to shrug it off when I joined him here, make it seem unimportant enough for him to drop it. What nonsense.

Thorin didn't retreat. Thorin would talk about this and he wouldn't stop until we did. I could either lie here sobbing and inviting more awful, hot, burning spanks or I could give in and face what he was determined to discuss. How much worse could things get? But I couldn't - I didn't know how to --

"You are struggling," Thorin murmured, that same velvety quality in his voice. "Come, little one, let me help you."

I didn't hesitate. "Y-yes! P-Please, Thorin! H-Help me!" I cried, shocked by how I sounded. I'd lost the ability to speak. Evidently a spanked bottom was linked to the brain.

But, again, Thorin blessedly stopped. A shudder rippled through me. I lay my head down and sobbed, my backside burning and burning. Was it over? Please let it be over. It seemed it was. Thorin shifted, lifted me and stretched me out over his lap, my legs free. He released my hands, too, and I groaned and drew them around in front of me and lowered my wet face to my crossed arms, saving my britches from becoming more damp than they already were.

"Shhh," he said, resting one hand on my back and one on my bottom. "Rest a moment. Breathe deeply."

I tried, but my breath kept hitching and getting tangled up with my crying. And then . . . then Thorin began rubbing my back, slowly, soothingly, his big paw of a hand moving and moving . . ..

"Shhhh. Easy. Breathe, little one."

'Little one.' I whimpered into my arms. I wanted to be let up from his lap, dreading more spanking, and yet, I . . . I didn't want to leave. It stunned me. I wanted to stay here? How was that possible? But what Thorin was doing to me now, the closeness of it, the-the . . . gentleness of it . . . it touched the place within me that had longed for his care and attention. I scarcely dared believe I was feeling it now under these distressing circumstances, but Thorin's warm voice and his rubbing hand made me yearn for more. I was too befuddled at the moment to think it through; I could only feel it. I'd stopped crying, but I felt an urge to start weeping again, a different kind of weeping.

"Good," Thorin murmured, that wondrous tone of his making my eyes well up. "I believe you are able to hear me now, little burglar."

I nodded. "H-Hear you. Yes, s-sir."

"But perhaps less able to speak," he said, amusement in his voice.

"P-Per'aps not. S-S-Sorry," I stammered, blushing. How long would it be until my speech returned to normal? I pictured trying to talk to the dwarves like this.

"No matter. I am certain you will be able to express yourself quite well," he said. "But hold back your 'sorries' until we are finished. Then you can offer one big apology. Understand?"

I didn't. But this was how Thorin chose to do things and I wasn't about to question him. "Y-Yes, sir," I said.

"Good," he said again. He lightly patted my bottom sending a shiver through me. "Are you comfortable?"

Shocking, but I was. It seemed wrong. But I couldn't deny that, despite my horribly hot backside, there was something about lying over his lap that made me think of being home in my chair beside the fireplace, enjoying a book, a cup of tea and a pipeful of Old Toby. It made no sense. However, as I was yet within range of another swat, I said, "Yes, but I-I'd like to get up now, p-please."

"No. As I told you before, you will remain where you are until we fully understand one another," he said, patting my horribly hot backside again.

"I-I dooo unnerstand now!" I wailed, desperate to avoid more of what he seemed all too willing to give me.

"What do you understand?"

"I-I . . ." Oh, no. We were right back at our earlier, 'you've-made-your-point'--'what-point-have-I-made?' And I still didn't know his point! I didn't understand anything other than Thorin had a phenomenal spanking arm and I didn't want him doing this to me ever, ever again. I doubted that was the answer he expected. I heard him chuckling softly.

"You have settled down and can hear me now. But you cannot fully understand what you called my 'point' until we have our discussion. We have talked over nothing, and you still have a few lessons to learn, Master Baggins."

That had an ominous sound to it I didn't much fancy. "P-Please don't s-spank me anymore! I'll be goooood!" I cringed, hearing what spilled out of my mouth.

"Very well then," Thorin said pleasantly. "You can begin by explaining why you lied to me."

A hot zing shot through me again. That confirmed it. He'd known from the start that I was lying. I'd disgraced myself for nothing. What made me think I could lie to Thorin Oakenshield? Drenched in shame, I started crying again.

"Shhhh. Hush now, little one. It is humbling to be caught in a lie. I know."

I hiccuped and blinked. "Y-You know?"

"Of course. I was a wee beardling once, trying to hide my misbehavior in any way I could, usually without success."

I couldn't picture Thorin Oakenshield as a wee 'beardling.' The name alone made me feel like giggling.

"I doubt you have much occasion to fib, young Master of Bag End," he went on. "If you made it a common practice you wouldn't do it so badly.''

I thought to protest this insult to my talents as a liar, but instead I asked, "H-How did you know I-I-I--"

"How did I know you were lying when I asked you what happened?"

I nodded, swallowing back more tears.

"After Gandalf freed us I took my nephews off for a private talk. They told me everything."

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" I moaned. Of course. Little wonder he'd looked so surprised during my tirade.

"It clearly never occurred to you that I had spoken to them first."

I shook my head, feeling ridiculous. "Nooooooo. I dunno why it din-din't, but ohhhhhh! S-Stupid of meeeAHH!"

"None of that," Thorin said, thankfully ending with one swat. "You are many things, Master Baggins, but you are not stupid. Do you understand me?"

"Un-Unnerstand," I said, but, again, I didn't understand at all. I _had_ been stupid. Well, perhaps not stupid. Perhaps a better term would beeee . . . no. I'd been stupid. And it baffled me why Thorin would care that I called myself stupid when, in fact, I was. But as it seemed to rile him I wouldn't do it again.

"I expected your version of what happened would match Kili and Fili's," he continued unmercifully on. "Nevertheless, I wanted to hear your side of the story. Imagine my surprise when you rewrote it."

A sob hitched in my throat. Thorin wasn't being harsh. His voice was calm and quiet. It was what he said that made my insides tremble. This was it. That uncomfortable 'something' I couldn't place and needed to hide and didn't want to think about was rushing up to confront me. I didn't know why that big whopping lie had spilled out of me earlier, but it seemed Thorin understood why, and here it was and he wouldn't let it go, and I had to look at it.

"So let us begin again, Master Baggins," he said. "What happened when you took my nephews their supper?"

"Why ask me? You know very well what happened!" I was as startled as he likely was to hear what came snarling out of me. There was a force behind it, too, the same force that had powered my lie. "AHHHHH!" One goodly Thorin swat on a sore backside felt like twenty.

"Try again. What happened?"

"But if you already kn-know what happened, why must I--AHHHHH!"

"Because I say so, little grocer. That is reason enough. Try again, this time without the impertinence. What happened?" And Thorin began raising his knee, lifting my bottom up into that awful position.

"Alright! Alright! I-I didn't volunteer! I was a c-coward!" I shouted, breaking into low sobs. "I didn't want to go r-rescue the ponies! Kili shoved me d-down the path, s-said I was so small the trolls w-wouldn't even see me. But they did! They did. Caught m-me. T-Twice! An-An then everybody was caught. My f-fault. All my fault. Ever'one almost g-got ate up, because of m-me."

Thorin went still. He lowered his leg, stopped rubbing my back and said nothing. I covered my face and wept into my palms, listening to his frightful silence, every moment endless and heavy. I couldn't blame him. I'd listened to myself in astounded disbelief. I thought I'd lied because I'd been embarrassed to admit that I hadn't volunteered. I'd wanted to sound brave and heroic. That was bad enough.

But this - this was the actual 'something' I didn't want to think about, the thing I'd tried to keep hidden. I didn't know I'd been hiding it from myself. But Thorin demanded to know what happened, and out it tumbled, and now that 'something' was very real and very big. I'd caused it all. I'd done it. My bungling, my getting caught twice, everything was my fault. The Company was nearly destroyed, the quest nearly lost because of me. I was horror-stricken and crying and moaning long and low.

Thorin shifted again, and he . . . he began lifting me from his lap. So. He was done with me. It was the awfullest moment yet, awfuller than anything that had come before. I was battered by feelings I couldn't fathom, plunged into a dark, lonely place. There was something worse than being spanked by Thorin Oakenshield. Being cast aside by him was so much worse it made me feel sick. It didn't make sense. And it did.

I kept my hands over my face, unable to watch what I felt he was about to do, unable to watch him stand me on my feet, rise, turn and walk away, leaving me alone with my guilt and my shame.

But . . . that wasn't what Thorin did. He picked me up, turned me over and sat me upright on his lap. I arched, dropped my hands and wailed. "AHHHHH!"

"Shhhh. This will help," Thorin said. He spread his legs and my stinging backside slid down a bit between them. I yelped throughout, but when I'd settled it did help some. Baffled now, shaking and still crying, I covered my face again.

"No, little one," he murmured and he took my hands down and held my wrists in one big paw. "No more hiding. Shhh. Hush now. You did well. You spoke the truth."

He was still calling me 'little one?' He sounded kindly? I couldn't imagine what was happening. I sat there, lost in confusion, hanging my head and struggling to dry my wet cheeks on my shoulders when I felt him cup my chin, lift my face and start wiping off the tears. He nearly triggered more crying.

"I already knew almost everything you told me," he said. "If you recall, I was there. My nephews told me the rest."

It was true. I turned to him, finding no rebuke in his eyes, only a mild, contemplative gaze. "You kn-knew _almost_ everything?" I asked.

"I knew the facts, but not the tangled twists and turns of your mind," he said. "So we will talk now, but before we do, young sir, understand this: nothing you have told me makes me think less of you."

to be continued --


	3. Chapter 3

  
My burglar had clearly expected to be judged as harshly as he had judged himself. He stared at me, tense with astonishment.

So, this was the reason behind his earlier outburst, the uncomfortable 'something' that had been roaring around inside his confused young mind and bringing about his flashes of temper. It had taken me a moment to absorb it. I'd expected him merely to admit that he had not volunteered, that my nephews had pushed him into his mission, whatever that was. I never imagined he would have taken on the responsibility for the entire troll mishap. Considering his intense and mournful crying Master Baggins had been surprised by his confession as well. He had likely avoided thinking about this until I'd forced him to do so. Quite the burden for a halfling who had lived a tranquil, upstanding life and rarely, if ever, had occasion to feel guilty. Small wonder he had snarled at me earlier this evening and fought me so stubbornly thus far. He had assumed a heavy load that was not his to bear. That ended now.

His spanking thus far had not gone on for long, although it surely felt otherwise to him. Still, he put up an entertaining verbal tussle, remaining stubborn and combative not only because he felt he had something to hide, but because he was fighting the idea of being spanked, fighting the notion that anyone would dare spank him, and, in particular, that I would dare spank him. No one had done such a thing to him beyond childhood, so he said. Bilbo Baggins was master of his domain, living a comfortable life so far removed from disciplinary action that he found the entire deed unfathomable. When would he ever have had occasion to find himself at the mercy of another in his peaceful Shire? All of this was new to him, as was the feel of the spanking itself. I understood, and I felt for the little fellow, but until he submitted to me he would be unable to listen to me. And Master Baggins would listen to me. We still had much to go over and we would continue on. But first this crucial matter of confused thinking needed settling.

I sighed and wiped the remaining wetness from his cheeks, saying, "You were not the cause of our troll mishap." He watched me with a somber, bewildered air, as though wondering if he had heard me aright and yearning to hear more of the same. The trolls were still threatening to pull him apart, but now they were in his mind.

He blinked and frowned, looking ready to insist that he was indeed to blame. "No," I said, cutting him off ere he could open his mouth. "No arguments. You had a hand in what happened, aye, but you were not the cause." I lifted my chin, looked down at him, and said, "You must calm yourself now and listen closely, Master Baggins. You need to be able to hear me and talk to me. Can you do this?"

He hiccuped then swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

"Good." I gave him a nod. "Then let us find the beginning of our troll problem, for there is always a starting point. Do you know what that was?"

"It started because I g-got caught."

I slowly shook my head. "No."

Wearing his puzzled little frown, he said, "It started when I went to free the ponies."

"No."

"But --"

"It did not start with you at all, little burglar. Think back to when you arrived, bringing Kili and Fili their supper. What happened? What were they doing?"

He gazed off past my shoulder for a moment, then said, "They were staring at the ponies."

"And?"

"Annnnnd . . . I asked what was the matter, and they said two ponies were missing."

"Go on."

"They searched around the ponies for a minute or two and came back, and Kili said that Daisy and Bungo were missing."

"What did you say? Tell me your exact words if you can." I watched him study on it, then:

"I said, _'Well, that's not good; not good at all. Shouldn't we tell Thorin?'_ "

"And then?"

"Then Fili said, _'No, let's not worry him. As our official burglar, we thought you might look into it.'_ "

"Aye, little one. That's where the troll mishap began, with Fili. My nephews had disobeyed my orders to stay with the ponies. They went to scout around instead. They didn't want me to find out what they had done, so Fili told you I shouldn't be made to worry and they set about trying to solve the missing ponies problem on their own, using you to help them. If Fili and Kili had but come and told me what happened we could have moved the camp far away from the trolls. We would have lost two ponies, but 'tis unlikely the trolls would have bothered to track down the rest of them."

He watched me with a rapt expression, his wide, startled eyes brimming. "I . . . I didn't . . . it wasn't my fault." A few tears slid down his cheeks, and I wiped them away, though he hardly seemed to notice. He was staring off, seeing it all with new understanding.

I let him think on't for a moment, and when he turned to me with a clear-eyed, collected look, I said, "You found yourself in a hard place, little burglar. Your mistake was in letting my nephews force you into something you knew you shouldn't be doing."

"Y-Yes, well, perhaps, but--"

I picked him up, flipped him into place over my lap and patted his rosy bottom. He gasped a strangled sound and cried, "NOOO! Please, please, please! Don't spank me any more! I can't take any morrre!"

I pressed my palm firmly down on his back to settle his squirming and raised my hand, saying, "You have a poor opinion of your own endurance, Master Baggins. Not that it isn't deserved."

"I have no endurance when I'm being s-spanked!"

"Not yet," I said, and I brought my hand down. CRACK!

He went rigid from head to toe, sucked a sharp breath, then yelled. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I spanked him steadily and silently, letting him get used to this again. For a little fellow he certainly could wail. And kick. If he still had his britches on I vow he would have sent them sailing.

 _"Yes, he is small,"_ Gandalf had said during a private talk I had with him our first night out. _"But hobbits are sturdy little folk. Bilbo will have no trouble keeping up with whatever pace you set."_

 _"But, will he obey my orders?"_ I had asked. _"Without question?"_

Gandalf puffed his pipe, then said, _"Oh, I think you'll find him to be a most obedient member of your Company."_

_"And if he is not?"_

Raising a brow, the wizard patiently said, _"Then you shall needs deal with him as you see fit, of course. And if you do have cause to discipline him, remember what I told you."_

_"Hobbits are sturdy little folk."_

_"Indeed they are."_

I watched my sturdy little hobbit, his curls flying, his childlike hands clenching fistfuls of his britches and his small, rounded backside bouncing with each swat of my hand, and just as it always was with my nephews, I felt a surge of satisfaction in seeing him stretched out over my lap, the same satisfaction I felt when I had first started spanking him. My burglar was safe, despite his finest efforts to become troll fodder.

"Now, Master Baggins, back to the beginning; why did you lie to me?"

"AHHHHHHHH! Pleeease! No morrre!"

"Try again. And settle down, sir, else I shall close you between my legs and subdue you as I did before."

"NOOOOOOO!"

"Then behave yourself and answer me. We have much to talk about ere I let you up. So be wise. Cooperate and spare your bottom."

"B-But I-I already told you-AHHHHH!"

"Are you arguing with me, young bratling?"

"NOOOOOOO! But I-I-I-"

"You told me what happened," I said, knowing how much harder this question would be for him. "Now you will tell me why you lied."

"T-Tell you a-again?"

"Aye."

He shuddered and went still, realizing what I wanted from him, then he moaned and wept more deeply, his fists opening and closing, squeezing his britches again and again. I waited, easing back, spanking him with slower, lighter swats. I wanted him to feel my steady hand swatting his bottom, but I needed him to concentrate and talk to me now.

He gulped and in a quavering voice, hushed and timid, he rasped, "I-I wanted you to think I was brave 'nuff to v-volunteer. Din-Din't want you to know that they p-pushed me down the p-path. I . . . I w-wanted you to think I had c-courage." And once again he buried his face in his palms and wept.

I could near feel the heat of his tense little body blushing over my lap. If I could have spared him repeating that confession I would have. He had indeed blurted it out earlier, but he had also blurted out his misunderstood guilt and that had needed to be dealt with first. This reason behind his lie had slipped to one side, but it, too, was important.

He deserved a moment before we moved on, so I paused, rested my hand on his bottom and rubbed his back again, enjoying it as much as I had the first time I had done it, watching him calm down as he had before, and when his weeping slowed I quietly said, "You need never prove your courage to me, little one. I know you to be brave."

His crying hitched, then stopped and he pushed up on one arm, turned and looked up at me with wide startled eyes. "You left your home in your peaceful Shire to join a company of strangers on a dangerous, long quest," I said. "That, Master Baggins, took great courage."

He stared at me. "Aye, you made mistakes in this troll mishap, but you have been brave throughout. We owe you our thanks for saving Bombur and for buying us time with your appalling lies. However--" I pushed him back down and began spanking him at my normal speed and strength again.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

"Lying to me as you did earlier tonight is unacceptable. I understand why you did it, but I shall not tolerate it. 'Tis best you learn that now and spare your wee bottom more of this. Lie to me, little one, and you shall end up right back where you are. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, yes, yessss! Un-Unnerstand!" He kicked and cried, even though I had eased off and was spanking him lightly again. "No ly-ying. S-Sor-ry--"

"I know," I said. "But save your sorries until we are finished, remember?"

"More? There's more s-spank--ohh, nooooooooo!"

"Indeed there is more, little burglar, beginning with what happened between you and my nephews."

"Ohhhnooo! Pleeeease!"

"Stop that," I said. "Settle down. I am spanking you lightly now."

"But it feeeels B-BIG!"

I snorted and moved on. "What did you say to Kili and Fili when you saw that the ponies were missing and the trees were uprooted?"

He let fly a small aggravated huff, making me grin at his audacity. Master Baggins had entered that childlike state wherein boldness sometimes made an unsuitable appearance. Aye, my little grocer was doing well.

"I already t-told you-AHHH!"

"Tell me again."

"I said, _'S-Shouldn't we tell Thor-rin?'_ " he sputtered.

"That would have been the best thing to do. Why then did you back down when Fili said no?"

He hesitated, then said, "Because he's a warrior. I-I thought he knew b-best."

That wasn't the only reason, however, I let it go for the moment, saying, "But as you now know, Fili's decision was based not on what might be the best thing to do, but on a desire to save his skin."

He choked a low sob. "Uh-huuuh."

"Your instincts were sound, little one. So should you have listened to Fili, or should you have followed your much wiser heart and come to find me?"

"Sh-Should've come to y-you."

"Indeed." And rather than dragging the rest from him I quietly added, "But perhaps you longed to be a comrade rather than an informant. Fili and Kili were including you. You liked that. So you wanted to help them."

He writhed, as though trying to wriggle away from this new and painful moment. "P-P'raps," he rasped.

"That is understandable. However your instincts to seek help were good ones," I said, increasing the speed and strength of my swats.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"How do you know when you are doing something wrong?"

"I-I get a bad, s-scary feeling in-inside! AHHHHH!"

"Aye. So the next time you are tempted to follow my nephews into something you know you shouldn't do I expect you to pay heed to that bad, scary feeling inside and follow your wiser instincts instead. Understand?"

"AHHHHHHHHHH! Yesssirr! Unnerstand!"

"Very good, little one." I eased off again, spanking lightly. "This brings us to your choice to approach the trolls. Again, you knew better than to do something that dangerous."

Master Baggins jumped to his own defense. "I-I-I did know it! I did! I kept saying n-no! I didn't w-want to go!"

"And yet you went."

"They made me! Said it was pert-fically safe. Said they'd be r-right behind me, then they p-pushed me down the p-path, then . . . . Pleeeeease stop spanking meee!"

"No."

"But I'll be gooood!"

I grinned again. "Good little grocers do as they are told. Continue."

He groaned, then said, "S-So, I started out and-and when I turned 'round they were gone."

"You objected, they insisted, then they pushed you forward and abandoned you. Why did you continue on?"

He froze, thought it over, then gave a few violent kicks and cried, "I don't knowww!"

Again, rather than force him through more difficult reflection when he was fast becoming less than able, I said, "You do know. You told me yourself earlier tonight. You said, _'If I'm a burglar then I'm a burglar and it's best I do my job.'_ Then you said that you were not inept and that I had hired you to be a burglar and it was time you started to make a contribution. Do you recall those words?"

Weeping steadily, he nodded. "Uh-huh. I s-said that. All that."

"Aye, indeed you did. You were most insistent. And I vow those same thoughts went through your head when you decided to do something you knew you should not do, something that frightened you, and for good reason."

He nodded. "Uh-huhhh."

"But my nephews had given you a charge and now you were on your own, so you steeled yourself and pressed on towards the trolls. You wanted to prove your courage to Fili, to Kili, to all of us. Here was your first chance to show that you were a worthy burglar, a valuable member of this Company. Is that not so?"

He moaned into the soft cloth beneath his face, and nodded again, too overcome to utter a word. In part I wanted to let him hide in his embarrassment, hide from admitting what had driven him. But this was too crucial a matter. The memory of him suspended between those trolls flashed before me again, and I frowned and gave him a single hard swat. "Answer me!"

"AHHH! YES!YES!YES!" Then he collapsed shivering and slipping into a sad shuddery crying. "Yesssirrr. I thought j-just what you said I d-did. All of it. You're right 'bout all of it."

"Then I shall tell you again, there is no need to demonstrate your courage to me, nor to anyone."

"I knowwwww! I could'a turned b-back and I-I could'a come and told you 'bout the p-ponies and I din't! W-Wanted to be a brave hero! S-So it WAS all my fault! It w-was!"

Reasonable of him to feel freshly guilty after learning where he made his mistakes, but he had once again taken on too much. I spanked him firmly and steadily now, much to the dismay of my impressively loud halfling. His backside had turned a warm reddish hue and I knew he was reaching his limit, but these last lessons were all-important, so I tipped my knee up once more, and began swatting the lightly pink curve under his bottom, saying, "I must not have spanked you enough if you have already forgotten what you learned."

He shot up and arched his back. "AHHHHHHHH! NOOO! AHHHHHH! D-Din't forget!"

"Tell me then. Go back to the beginning. When did this troll mishap start?"

He knew at once. "W-When Fili said, n-no, we shouldn’t tell youuu!"

"So was everything all your fault?"

"N-NOOO! No, sirrr. Not all. Not,not,not all my fault!"

"Very good." I lowered my knee and began spanking him lightly, careful now of his red bottom. "You were responsible for some of it, little grocer, and that's why you are over my knee."

"S-Some," he muttered. "Sponslip-ple for some."

"Aye. Some. This time. But there shall always be consequences for misbehavior. I intend to see you survive this quest, Master Baggins. If you get into mischief again and again I shall turn you over my knee and spank you again and again.

"You are a member of this Company, subject to a warrior's code of obedience to orders. So I am now giving you a direct order, sir. You will listen to and obey your wiser self when you are confronted with a dangerous choice, and in times of peril you shall stay to the rear as long as possible. You were not hired to be a warrior, little one. I have thirteen warriors. I have only one burglar. And I shall not allow you to risk yourself."

I rested my hand on his small, hot bottom, listening to the remorseful sound of his low sobbing. "Now," I said in a patient voice, "what have you to say to me?"

"I-I-I-" he gasped and coughed and hiccuped amidst his crying, but could get nothing else out.

"Shhhh," I said, rubbing his back again, and rubbing his hot bottom as well. "Shhh. No more spanking. Easy now. Breathe, little one. Take a moment and breathe. That is an order."

Ahh. Obedient wee halfling. He lay still, weeping raggedly and drawing in some long gulping breaths, then: "S-Sorrryyy," he ventured in a small voice, "Sorry,sorry,sorry, sooooooo sorrryyy, s-sir."

I waited, but he said nothing else. I had to know why he was apologizing lest those tangled twists of his mind land him in the wrong place again. "What are you sorry for?"

"S-Sorry for my part w-with the trolls," he rasped. "Should'a l-listened to my-myself."

Master Baggins in a well-spanked state was delightful. I was enjoying him far too much and refused to feel badly about that. For he now understood his lessons, and they would, hopefully, help keep him safe. I patted his bottom, saying, "Very good. Apology accepted, little one."

"And,And --" he hurried on, "I-I-I'm sorry you're angry with me."

Hmm. A tangled twist. But it made sense in a sad way that he was unable to understand the distinction. He had not been spanked since he was a wee halfling. "I am not angry with you," I quietly said. "I never was angry with you. I was angry about what you did." He went very still. I could almost hear him thinking this over. "Do you see the difference, little one?"

"Uh-huh," he murmured. A pause, then he said, "Th-Thorin Oakenshield?"

I grinned. "Aye, Master Baggins?"

"I'm s-sorry you were angry 'bout what I did."

Still grinning I shook my head a bit and I began slowly petting his soft curls. "I know. But you have answered for your mistakes and all is forgiven. 'Tis over and done with."

His soft weeping increased. His face was turned my way, his eyes shut, and I watched him, so small and disheveled, so bravely bearing what had surely been a shattering ordeal, and I felt a sudden tremendous urge to gather him up and hold him close to me, settle and soothe him. I could see myself doing it, reaching down, picking him up and pulling him into my arms. And yet . . ..

I returned to rubbing his back, waiting, giving him what time he needed, and when his weeping finally lessened I reached over and grasped his britches, saying, "Lift your head, little one." He opened his eyes and looked up at me with a startled, stricken gaze, then he lifted his head until I slipped his britches free, pillowed his face onto his arms again and began more soft, almost silent crying, his shoulders shaking.

I dressed him slowly, that urge to gather him up and hold him surging through me, and when it came to drawing his britches over his reddened bottom I had to force myself to do it. He cried out once, then he returned to that piteous weeping. I had spanked him for a shorter period of time and with less strength than I had my nephews, but this little one was still distraught.

The desire to comfort him was consuming me now, but I drew in a long, steadying breath, picked him up, turned him, and perched him between my legs as I had before. And, just as before, he arched and hissed when his sore bottom touched my thighs, then he buried his face in his palms.

"Shhhhh," I murmured, once again pulling his hands away and wiping the tears from his damp cheeks. "Shhh, hush now." His eyes remained downcast, his lashes wet and glistening. I wouldn't make him look at me this time. I allowed him his solitude, though it pained me to do so. But I felt an abrupt and disagreeable need to withdraw from him, regain some distance and control. A great battle raged within me. Never had that urge to gather him close been stronger. Why shouldn't I? I held my nephews after spanking them. Why not hold this little one?

Because my nephews were my nephews and Master Baggins was my burglar. Holding him seemed too . . . personal. And although I had just turned his bare bottom over my knee there was a difference between spanking him and holding him in my arms. It should have made no sense, but it did make sense to the part of me that now mustered every disciplined inner resolve I possessed and began pulling back, removing myself from him.

"Shhh. Come, Master Baggins," I said. "Shhhhh. 'Tis all over now."

There was a subtle change in him, a shudder coursing through his body. He went still, then he drew a long steadying breath to match mine. "Yes, sir," he said, in a hollow, hushed voice. "All over now."

A dull ache slammed into me, a sense of emptiness. But I braced myself. I released his hands, picked him up and stood him on his feet between my spread knees, holding him until his wobbly legs could take over. He kept dashing away tears with the backs of his hands, looking altogether wretched. I felt wretched as well. I had done what I set out to do, but it was, nonetheless, a dark moment. I heard myself say, "We must return to the Company."

Eyes still downcast, he bit his bottom lip, released it, and murmured, "May I . . . may I p-please stay here for a little while?"

I did not want to leave him here alone. I considered saying no and ordering him to return with me. I hardly knew what to say, and when I said nothing he glanced up at me. "I'll be alright," he said. "Please, sir? I-I won't be long. I promise. I . . . I just need to be by mys-self for a while."

Suddenly I could not bear to remain there, listening to him plead and looking into his sad little face. I eased him back a few steps then stood, saying, "As you wish. But do not stay out here all night, Master Baggins. That is an order. Do not make me come find you."

"I won't," he muttered. "Thank you, sir." And he turned, plodded over to the fountain in a stilted manner and stood gazing up at it, his back to me.

It was not supposed to be like this. It was never like this with Fili and Kili. There was no emptiness, no parting ache. I was miserable, and clearly so was my burglar. He stood unmoving, head tilted back, staring up, and although I hated doing it I turned and stomped away from him. I looked back once and saw him still standing there, gazing up. Every step was an effort, an anxious roar thundering within me.

Reaching the path, I headed down it between the high shrubbery and out of his view. Then I halted for a moment, fists clenched, and I heard something. I listened, then I took a few steps back until I could see him again. Master Baggins was lying on the bench, curled up on his side, one hand rubbing his bottom and his face buried against his bent arm. He was crying, deep, low, lonely muffled sobs.

I covered the space between us with long, fast strides. He didn't see me approach, so he gasped when I picked him up and held him close for a quick moment. I suddenly knew what I had to do, what I always did with my nephews and needed to do with my burglar. Relief and a sense of rightness poured through me. I smiled to myself, sat and turned him back over my knee.

****************

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, horrified. I wriggled and kicked. "NOOOOOOOOOOO, pleeeeeeease! Don't s-spank me anymorrrrrrrrre! I can't take anym-OWWW!"

"Hush, you ill-mannered bratling. I am not going to spank you, save for that swat to get your attention. Now stop bellowing and settle down ere I am forced to give you another."

I blinked and went still. This wasn't that dead, distant voice I'd heard when he'd finished with me and lifted me from his lap. Thorin Oakenshield sounded like himself again, like he did when he was spanking me, that quiet, patient voice laced with a firm undertone. So I did settle down, not because of his threat of another swat, but because that warm voice was back. Something hopeful went off inside me, and I waited, quivering, to see what he would do.

He held me, one strong arm draped over my back, one beneath my scalded bottom, and I lay over his solid thighs, resting there, my head on my folded arms. He didn't say anything and I didn't say anything. And then he started rubbing my back again. Ohhhhh, how I loved it. I closed my stinging eyes. My bottom throbbed and my tense muscles relaxed and, quite suddenly, I felt drained. Thorin Oakenshield had given me such a ferocious spanking that I was glad our ungrateful ponies had run off, for I'd never sit a saddle again, and if Fili and Kili had tried to hoist me up and plunk me down on some other contrary nag I'd have wriggled out of my coat and run back to Rivendell and hid behind Lord Elrond's robes.

But at this moment I was content to lay here, feeling safe, feeling that great big hand move over my back. I even stopped my endless scattered weeping. I never knew a hobbit could produce that many tears. I must have had a surplus. I'd been saving them up for a long time.

Sneaky of him to double back when I'd thought he'd left. I'd needed a good, long, private cry. I was hurt and it had nothing to do with my fiery bottom. The hurt came from how it had all ended, how empty it felt, how lonely. Who was that dwarf at the close of the whole thing? That wasn't the Thorin who had just spanked me. Many times when he was talking to me and I'd felt badly about the things I'd done, Thorin had helped me and taught me and I'd felt comforted by him.

But when he'd said, _'Tis over and done with,'_ a deep sorrow surged inside me. I was, once again, too befuddled to understand it at the time. Perhaps I'd been spanked insensible. I didn't want it to end and how daft was that? But Thorin had been rubbing my back and my bottom and it felt so good that I couldn't stop crying. I cried because it was over, this closeness with him was over. A faraway part of me cringed at that, but the part of me that had surfaced during the spanking knew the truth. Then he took my britches and started putting them on me and it got worser and worser.

Nothing that took place during that long, long spanking made me feel worser than I did when it was over. I just wanted him to go away, that cold, mean Thorin who put me aside and abandoned me so suddenly. What happened to the Thorin who had called me 'little one?' Was that Thorin not real?

I didn't know what to do or what to think. I needed to be alone. I had to be alone. And when I was sure he was gone I would run away and hide deep in this elvish land where they'd never find me. The dwarves would have to continue on without a burglar, and when they'd left Rivendell I'd somehow make my way home. Or I'd go to Lord Elrond and ask for sanctuary. I could never risk this happening again, because although Thorin's spanking had hurt, it only hurt my bottom. The pain of him casting me aside afterward hurt something deep inside me.

But I didn't run off the moment he left. I curled up and cried, unable to stop. What had happened and what might I have done to turn him into that distant Thorin? And then, suddenly, he was back, picking me up and holding me close. It was brief but glorious, that hug, and when he'd turned me over his knee again and said a few words I heard the Thorin who had helped me through the biggest walloping of my life, the Thorin who sent me floating on a cloud of acceptance and forgiveness.

"That is enough thinking, little one," he suddenly said. "Come back to me. I left you too abruptly and I should not have done so. Too much went unsaid. So now we shall finish this as I should have before."

"Yes, sir," I said, and I lay still, eager and hopeful. But he didn't pick me up, so I said, "Like this? We're going to talk with me laying here?" In truth I didn't know what to wish for.

"Aye. But, as I told you, your bottom is safe."

I thought that over, then quickly said, "Alright."

"Unless you behave badly and beg another small swat."

Small indeed! "I-I won't."

"You are comfortable?"

"Uh-huh. I mean, yes, sir. But--"

"But?"

"My britches are wet."

"Aye," he said, a smile in his voice. "So I see." He patted the wet patch on my right thigh. "'Tis plain where your face was buried."

I groaned and said, "I cried a lot."

"So did Fili and Kili."

What? I couldn't have heard him properly. "What?"

"Fili and Kili also cried when they were spanked tonight. They always do. Eventually. I make certain of it. Although Fili can be as stubborn as you were, little bratling."

I shot up on my stiff arms and twisted 'round to look at him. He calmly returned my stare. "What?" I breathed. "You-You cannot mean that you --"

"Spank my nephews? Aye. From the time they were wee beardlings to this day. Did you not notice how they looked when they told you I wanted to see you?"

I thought back. "They were in shadow, with the firelight behind them when they spoke to me, and they didn't look at me directly, and I thought it strange, the way they muttered and kept their heads down."

"Now you know why," Thorin said, and pushed me back down into position before continuing on. "And they knew why I sent for you, what I planned to do. So, as they knew your fate, 'tis only fair that you know theirs. They will be discreet, and I know you shall, too."

"Of-Of course," I replied, still thunderstruck. I stared off, trying to envision Fili and Kili going over Thorin's knee. I would never have imagined . . .. "They fit on your lap?" I blurted out.

He chuckled. "They fit very well indeed."

"But they're warriors," I said.

"Aye, fine warriors, both of them. But they are also young and daring and reckless. They don't stop to think about the possible consequences of their actions. That is what happened last night.

"But Fili and Kili know what to expect should they disobey orders or endanger themselves needlessly. And now you know what awaits you if you choose to do the same. It would be unjust of me to spank you for this and not discipline them as well. They were even more blameworthy than you were. And why is that, little burglar?"

"Because they disobeyed your orders and because Fili didn't want to tell you what had happened."

"Aye. Very good." He paused, then said, "They were concerned about you, little one. They thought I might spank you as I did them and they feared for your wee hobbit bottom."

"Oh," I said, blushing horribly at the notion of the three of them discussing the fate of my 'wee hobbit bottom.' "Oh, well, that was . . . thoughtful. But, didn't you spank me as you do them?"

"Nay. Your spanking was much lighter."

"Lighter? Oh!" I exclaimed.

"And much shorter."

"Oh, my!" Lighter and shorter? I couldn't fathom that. Dwarf backsides were certainly more durable than hobbit ones were. My admiration for Fili and Kili's courage soared. They knew what Thorin would do to them and they'd still disobeyed his orders? Suddenly Fili's quick decision to 'not worry Thorin' made sense. I'd have done anything to keep him from finding out, too, including shoving a hobbit towards the trolls in the hopes that he could right matters . . . a flawed strategy to say the least. It seemed there was a fine line between courage and folly.

"My nephews have more stamina than you do because they have had more practice going over my knee," Thorin said. "But they know what to expect when they are disobedient. They also know that afterward they will be forgiven and comforted."

That bitter hurt surged inside me again and I squeezed my hands into painful fists and fumed. I almost blurted out, _'Comforted? By you?'_

"Ahh, Master Baggins, how tense and rigid you have become," Thorin murmured, patting my bottom. He was silent for a moment, then he said in a thoughtful tone, "You have a right to your anger. I left you alone and uncomforted. You deserved better. You deserved the kind of solace my nephews always receive after a spanking."

A shiver passed through me. Suddenly I was crying again, softly. I wouldn't have thought I had any tears left.

"Shhh," Thorin purred. "Shhh. Listen to me, little one. No matter what you have done, you cannot disappoint me. I may be angry, especially if you endanger yourself needlessly, but I shall be angry because of what you did, not angry with you. And I promise you this: when you are disobedient I shall not turn away from you, nor dismiss you, nor leave you alone with your guilt. I will take you over my knee and spank you as I just did, and then you can say your sorries and all will be forgiven."

I trembled, crying harder, almost silently, and he kept rubbing my back and saying things like "shhhhh," and "'tis alright now," and then he said, "As I told you earlier, you found yourself caught in a difficult place last night, Master Baggins. But, despite your lack of experience with danger you did the best you could. And tonight you bravely endured the consequences of your actions. I am proud of you, little one."

It was too much to hear. Now I was crying too hard to think, but it was . . . good. It was good crying. I felt like I could lie there forever with Thorin murmuring to me and rubbing my back, but suddenly I felt him lift me, and he pulled me close, and he wrapped his big arms around me and Thorin Oakenshield held me. I was engulfed by his strong body, my heart hammering, too stunned to move, too stunned to do anything but weep into the mass of thick, dense hair spread over his shoulder. And during those moments that he held me I realized that all the hurt and anger and bad feelings and the loneliness were gone. He'd seen my hurt and he came back to help me, to comfort me as he comforted Fili and Kili. He . . . _cared_ about me. I hardly dared believe it to be true, but I knew that it was. If he didn't care about me he would have left me alone with my guilty feelings. But he hadn't. And he never would. He'd said, _'when you are disobedient I shall not turn away from you, nor dismiss you, nor leave you alone with your guilt.'_ I would never have expected him to say such a thing to me of all people. But within what Thorin had said and done to me tonight there lived one message: _'I care about you.'_ I was so overwhelmed that I surprised myself by sputtering my truest feelings, "Th-Thank you, Thorin Oakenshield."

He chuckled softly. "Not at all, Master Baggins." He gently drew me back and settled me on his lap again. I yelped and arched. "Mmmm," he rumbled. "That soreness will be with you for a while."

I squirmed, trying to get comfortable. "Hurts," I said.

"It was meant to. You now know what awaits you the next time you are tempted to misbehave."

"There won't be a next time," I said. Thorin laughed, softly and indulgently. I looked up at him. "There won't," I repeated, wiping my wet face on my sleeves.

He watched me with his quiet half-grin, his eyes glittering. "I am glad to hear it."

"Do you believe me?"

"No."

"You don't?"

"We have a long journey ahead of us," he said. "Anything can happen."

I dropped my gaze to where his big hand rested on my knee, covering it entirely. That was the hand that had just spanked me, and I stared at it and pondered what he'd said. He was right of course. It was a long journey and anything could happen, including me suffering another throbbing bottom. But I now knew that there were worse things than a throbbing bottom.

"What is it, little one?"

And suddenly I blurted out my actual feelings again. "I was angry with you."

"Understandable."

"Not . . . Not for the spanking."

"I did not think it was for the spanking. And you were more than just angry."

I nodded. I couldn't bring myself to voice how hurt I'd been but as he seemed to already understand that, too, I blundered on, still being much too truthful. "I was so angry that I . . . I wanted to run away, or-or perhaps stay here in Rivendell."

He was silent for what felt like several hours. Why, oh, why had I told him that? I wanted to jump from his lap and run away this minute, not that he would have let me. So I watched my fingers pick at the hem of my shirt and squirmed inwardly and waited.

Finally, he said, "You are an honorable burglar, Master Baggins. I doubt you would have actually broken your contract."

I gave my head a quick shake. "No. I just . . . I just thought about it."

"You must have been enduring a great deal of . . . more-than-just-anger."

I nodded. He closed his hand over mine, stopping my fingers and he began rubbing my back yet again. I melted at once. Merciful stars, but he was good at that!

"I regret that you were pushed to such a point, little one. 'Tis possible you will feel that way again ere our quest is over. You know my manner well enough by now. And I know yours. I shall certainly growl and roar at you at times. I shall roar my loudest if something life-threatening has happened to you. And if what happened was of your own doing I promise you another spanking. But when I spank you in future--"

I shot him a look. "When?!"

"When," he said, smiling reprovingly, "I spank you in future I also promise you this, we shall end it as we are ending it now, as I always end it with my nephews." He paused and gently squeezed my hands. "I shall never again leave you as I did tonight, and you need never fear feeling 'more-than-just-anger.'"

"But I'll fear the spanking," I said.

"Good," he said. "The choice of whether or not you end up over my knee is always yours, little burglar. Behave yourself and you need not fear another sore bottom."

I gazed at him, unable to speak, because he was grinning at me again with his quiet half-smile, the way I'd longed for him to smile at me, the way he smiled at his dwarves, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what I'd been longing for truly had come to pass. I was now one of those he cared about. I couldn't help grinning back at him. "Fair enough, Thorin Oakenshield."

"Fair enough, Master Baggins."

**************

EPILOGUE

 

"What's taking so long?"

"I told you," I said. "It could be Bilbo hasn't been spanked since he was a . . . whatever they call hobbit littles. Thorin would take more time with him."

Kili started pacing his short path again. We lingered in the shadows pretending we were talking about anything other than a halfling's spanking. My brother was right. Thorin had kept Bilbo out there a long time.

The Company, now close to roaring drunk, paid Kili and me no mind, which was fine with us, even though usually we'd have been right there in the middle of them, drunker than the lot. We'd moved away from them and into the shadows, though, because we didn't want them to keep urging us to sit down and toss back the ale. We were busy standing watch for a poor halfling who was out there getting spanked because of what we'd done. Kili was fretting enough for both of us, so I kept trying to talk him down from his worry. But I'd feel much better when our little burglar came back. We owed him an apology, too. A big one.

We'd already said our sorries to the Company. Then only half-tight, they'd peered at us when we told them what happened and apologized for nearly getting them eaten by trolls. Balin started things off, saying, _"Forget it, laddies."_ Then Gloin said, _"Forget it? Nay, let's drink to it! Because of you and our wee burglar, we found a horde of treasure!"_ Little Ori said, _"And we saw trolls turn to stone!"_ Bofur said, _"And we got to see Dwalin in his drawers, turning on a spit."_ They'd all burst out laughing, and Bofur added, _"It could've been worse, you know. We could have seen Dwalin without his drawers turning on a spit."_

They'd all howled at that, Dwalin loudest of all.

Now Kili stopped pacing again. "They've been out there half the night."

"They haven't been out there half the night." I caught his eye and gave him my calm-down-little-brother gaze. "What exactly are you afraid of?"

Kili stared at me. "Well, Thorin's --"

"Spanking him, yes. But he won't spank him the way he did us. Thorin knows how to handle Bilbo, little brother."

Kili's dark eyes glittered. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Just then a small figure came trudging into view. He glanced our way, crossed to his pack, dug out his pipe and pouch, then came straight over to stand with us. He had that well-spanked look alright, the glassy, swollen eyes, the stiff gait and the tousled hair. Kili and I had only ever seen each other looking like that. Bilbo darted us a shy wince.

"Thorin will be along in a minute. He thought it would be less noticeable if we returned separately."

"Are you alright, Bilbo?" Kili quickly asked.

He hesitated, then muttered, "Yes. And no. What about you two? Are you alright?"

Kili and I looked at each other. "Yes," I said.

"And no," my brother added.

"You're used to this, I suppose," Bilbo said.

"There's no such thing as 'used to' it," I said. I glanced at the Company, making sure they were still more interested in singing rowdy drinking songs than in us, then I turned and strolled deeper into the shadows and halted, Bilbo and my brother following me.

"No one knows, do they?" Bilbo asked.

"Balin likely does," Kili said. "He took us out to where Thorin was waiting. No one else knows."

"Keep to the shadows 'till morning, though," I said. "By then your eyes will look normal again."

"Normal? What? How do they --"

"And your voice will sound less hoarse." I nodded at his pipe. "You won't want that right now."

"It'll make your raw throat feel like a Balrog's living in there," Kili said.

Bilbo sighed and tsked and unthinkingly reached around to rub his little backside.

"And don't do that!" Kili exclaimed in a hushed tone.

Snatching his hand away, Bilbo muttered, "Right." He gazed down at his pipe looking woeful.

Kili, looking just as woeful, watched him. "We're sorry we got you into this," he said.

"Yes, very sorry," I added.

Bilbo waved his hand. "Wasn't your fault. I didn't have to do what you wanted me to." He cast a glance between us. "I certainly don't blame you, either of you. And you got the same as what I just got so --"

He shrugged, and at that moment Thorin came striding down the path. He saw us before the Company saw him, and he slowed and gave us his warmest grin, then he moved on and the Company sent up a cheer at the sight of him.

We stood silent for a long moment, then Bilbo turned to Kili and me again. He was wearing his own warm little hobbity grin. "You asked me if I'm alright," he said. "I'm very alright."

And Kili and I, knowing what he meant, grinned back.

 

end


End file.
